


Hourglass

by BeanieBaby



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Fix-It, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mutual Pining, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Possessive Anakin, Protective Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon Lives, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeanieBaby/pseuds/BeanieBaby
Summary: “Are you an angel?” Anakin’s small hands came up to cup his smooth cheeks, blue eyes wide with wonder.“No, Ani,” Blinking past the moisture threatening to flood his eyes, Obi-Wan laughed and in a wild moment of poor decision-making, pressed a loving kiss to Anakin’s forehead.But I swear I will watch over you like one if the Force gave me a second chancehummed unspoken between their new bond.(Obi-Wan finds himself back on Tatooine after his encounter with Darth Vader in the Death Star. Qui-Gon lives and becomes Anakin's master. Some things change and others do not. Time-travel Fix-it.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love Star Wars. I saw the original trilogy with my dad when I was six and it was amazing. I just saw the prequels over winter break this year and it introduced some of the most cringe-worthy dialogue and stiff acting I have ever seen, but somehow I still loved it?! I don't know why, but I did, and with it came the strong urge to write a fix-it for this pairing. I loved Qui-Gon's character in the prequels, but Luke's gotta be my all-time favorite. He's just so pure and good. Btw, I have not seen the Last Jedi. 
> 
> So, the disclaimer. I am not at all well-versed in the legend and canon of Star Wars. This is such a huge and intimidating fandom, I am very very nervous about posting anything, but after hunting down the wiki pages and reading them, this just had to be posted. Please be gentle with me and I would love some feedback.

Obi-Wan did not expect to wake after his encounter with Vader on the Death Star. It was his time, long at last, to see to an end Obi-Wan and Anakin's tale and the beginning of Luke and Leia's story. He also did not expect to hear the familiar sound of his old Master Qui-Gon Jinn's voice, albeit laced with exasperation and a small hint of concern, call out-

"Padawan, are you alright back there? I told you to grab onto something and brace for impact."

Obi-Wan was too busy staring down at his youthful reflection in the shiny chrome hull he had fallen against to answer the question. He was no longer the desert-shrunken old man hiding in self-exile. No, his Padawan braid was still somehow attached. It tickled the side of his face. Obi-Wan sneezed, landing on his backside just as Qui-Gon's tall form walked gracefully into view.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon admonished gently, golden brown eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth.

"Master..." Obi-Wan gaped. If Qui-Gon sensed any disturbances in the Force, he did not mention it.

"We need a new hyperdrive generator," the Jedi Master muttered as he made his way to the back of the ship and opened the loading dock doors to reveal the endless expanse of yellow sand outside.

Tatooine.

Somehow, Obi-Wan was on Tatooine again.

"Stay with the ship, Padawan. Artoo, come along," Qui-Gon said, stepping off the platform and onto the desert planet Obi-Wan had exiled himself to in his grief, Anakin Skywalker's home planet.

"Wait, Master Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet, but the little group including Jar Jar and a disguised Padme had disappeared over the dunes. He was torn between chasing after them and obeying his Master's orders to stay with the downed ship, but the underlying crippling sense of need, the desire to see his precious Padawan again was too strong to ignore. The thought of Anakin, young and untouched by darkness, pulled at him like a physical hook, gouging deep into Obi-Wan's chest.

Jedi were not supposed to want or love, but inside this young shell, Obi-Wan Kenobi was a weary old man and weak against his selfish desires.

Heart pounding in his chest and his mind made, Obi-Wan jumped from the ship and set off at a run.

 

* * *

 

The Force guided him as he ran through the bustling streets of Tatooine’s market, each step leading Obi-Wan closer and closer to the child he had loved with all of his heart and ultimately failed. He didn’t know how or why he had been sent back to his Padawan days, or whether this was just a version of the afterlife, whether he was doomed to repeatedly live his failure over and over. Obi-Wan skidded to a stop outside the back of Watto's junk shop and sure enough, the tiny familiar figure of the boy was half-hidden behind a rusted metal bumper. Anakin was muttering under his breath about something, brows drawn into a small scowl as he dug through the pile of scraps.

“Ani!”

The old nickname ripped free from Obi-Wan’s throat of its own volition, and the boy turned, a spare part slipping from greasy fingers. Anakin let out a startled squeak when Obi-Wan swept him off his feet and pulled him into a tight hug, Jedi training be damned. He had given everything for the Order. Obi-Wan would allow himself to have this one moment, if nothing else.

Years of pent-up love, regret, and sadness poured from Obi-Wan, and the boy in his arms gasped as the floodgate opened between them, his small fingers leaving dark streaks of engine oil on Obi-Wan’s pristine Padawan robes when he seized them instead of pushing the odd stranger away.

_Bewilderment, curiosity, and a touch of embarrassment, but not fear._

It took him a few seconds to realize the feelings came from Anakin, and Obi-Wan’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t meant to create a Force bond with the child, but there it was, exceedingly strong and bright, like staring into the sun. Years of having Anakin in the back of his mind had made him used to the bond, and when it had been ripped away, both Master and Padawan had suffered. He didn’t realize how much he missed this, to be able to breath properly again.

“Are you an angel?” Anakin’s small hands came up to cup his smooth cheeks, blue eyes wide with wonder.

“No, Ani,” Blinking past the moisture threatening to flood his eyes, Obi-Wan laughed and in a wild moment of poor decision-making, pressed a loving kiss to Anakin’s forehead.

 _But I swear I will watch over you like one if the Force gave me a second chance_ hummed unspoken between their new bond.

Anakin smiled timidly and settled comfortably in Obi-Wan’s arms, “how do you know my name?”

“Well, you’re quite famous around here,” Obi-Wan pointed out, “a pod-racing genius, I believe.”

“But I didn’t win last time,” Anakin pouted.

“You will, dear one, you will,” Obi-Wan assured just as Watto and Qui-Gon walked out into the yard and spotted him clutching the child tightly to his bosom.

“Padawan?”

“Ani?!”

Obi-Wan quickly set Anakin down, the boy scrambling behind him to peer up at the newcomers, one hand still clutching loosely at the edges of Obi-Wan’s robes and already completely at ease in his presence. Obi-Wan sent pulses of reassurance to the child through their new bond and saw Qui-Gon’s surprised expression morph into one of disapproval.

“I thought I told you to stay on the ship, Obi-Wan,” He side-stepped Watto and bent down to peer interestedly at the wide-eyed child clinging to his Padawan. “And who are you, youngling?”

“Your name is Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked instead, tugging on Obi-Wan’s robes to get his attention. Heaving an amused sigh, he knelt beside his Master and gently nudged the child forward.

“Anakin Skywalker,” Anakin said shyly when Qui-Gon introduced himself.

 _“He is force-sensitive,”_ Obi-Wan mouthed at his Master.

 _“We will speak of this later, Padawan,”_ Narrowing his eyes, Qui-Gon mouthed back. Then, straightening up once more, he turned to the Toydarian junk dealer hovering suspiciously behind him and said, “do you accept Republic credits for the hyperdrive?”

 

* * *

 

“I sense unrest within you, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan’s immediate reaction was to strengthen the shields around his mind, which in hindsight, seemed to confirm Qui-Gon’s suspicions. His master’s weapon hand settled at his waist, a clear warning.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“Your Padawan,” Obi-Wan replied, carefully gauging his reaction.

“My Padawan would never disobey a direct order to run from a ship and form a bond with a random slave boy in the streets,” Qui-Gon pointed out in a mild voice, although the Force swirling about him was anything but mild, “not to mention, your shields are now impeccable. I ask you again, who are you?”

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi,” He said evenly, not looking away from Qui-Gon’s steely gaze, “and he is not a random slave boy. You and I both know this.”

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon began, but Anakin chose that moment to poke his head into the room and cleared his throat.

“Mom says dinner’s ready,” he informed them.

“Come here, Anakin,” Smiling encouragingly at the child, Obi-Wan beckoned him in. Then, once the boy was sitting comfortably between them, he turned to Qui-Gon and said, “you should check his midichlorian count, Master.”

“This conversation is not over, Padawan,” He warned, but because Qui-Gon was not like the other Jedi masters, he did as Obi-Wan asked without fuss.

Qui-Gon drew in a sharp breath when he saw the reading and turned to his apprentice, “over 20,000. Even Master Yoda doesn't have a midichlorian count that high.”

“What does that mean?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan smiled and ruffled his light blond hair, “it means that you are a very special boy.”

Anakin beamed back, affection radiating in palpable waves through their bond. Oh, how Obi-Wan missed this innocent child.

“You don’t seem surprised, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said, frowning at them both contemplatively, but before he could ask further questions, the second call for dinner came and with it, all three obediently emerged from Anakin’s room, pressing pause to the conversation.

 

* * *

 

History repeated itself. Mostly.

Anakin won the race, but it was not Padme he ran to, his small face caked in dirt and sand. Obi-Wan stumbled under the force of the child’s tackle, arms going around his wriggling body and hoisting the triumphant child up to the cheers of the spectators. Anakin’s heart sang with pure joy, and Obi-Wan committed the moment to memory with the air of a desperate dying man. Through the cheering bodies, he saw Qui-Gon’s smiling form. His Master inclined his head briefly in approval, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes and lost himself in the tide of happiness from Anakin.

 

* * *

 

He expected nothing different from the Jedi High Council the second time around. They still declined Qui-Gon’s offer to teach the boy, and the hurt and confusion emanating from Anakin was so strong it made Obi-Wan dizzy. He was so busy discretely trying to comfort the child through their link that he didn’t even notice Mace Windu’s absence from the Council meeting.

He might not be able to change the Council’s verdict, but Qui-Gon’s impeding death at Darth Maul’s hands on Naboo was surely preventable. At least Obi-Wan was going to try his hardest to do so.

Decades of lightsaber combat experience made it almost easy to defeat the Sith apprentice. Qui-Gon was bleeding heavily from a shoulder wound, but still very much alive when Obi-Wan climbed back up the ledge and rushed to his master’s side.

“Well done, Padawan,” Qui-Gon’s hand brushed against Obi-Wan’s sweaty cheek, warm and so real it hurt. He tugged gently on the Padawan braid and smiled. Obi-Wan felt the overwhelming pride and affection emanating from his Master as he said, “I think it is time, Obi-Wan, for you to earn the title of Jedi Knight.”

 

* * *

 

Anakin, after being showered with praise from Padme and the soldiers for destroying the main reactor on the enemy ship, wriggled free of their hands and ran over to Obi-Wan, who had excused himself from his high-spirited shipmates to clean his master’s wound.

“Can I help with anything?” Anakin asked eagerly.

“Grab me a bacta patch, Ani, third compartment to the right,” Obi-Wan lifted his head, pausing his old-man nagging over Qui-Gon, who had rolled his eyes at the endless droning and was pretending to sleep at the moment.

“Is he gonna be ok?” Anakin asked in a low whisper.

“He can tell you himself,” Obi-Wan poked at his Master until the man stirred, heaving an irritated sigh and cracking open one eye to peer at the child hovering at his side.

“Of course, youngling,” Qui-Gon assured him, rubbing some of the engine grease from Anakin’s nose with his thumb. Anakin giggled, a high bright sound that made Obi-Wan’s chest constrict with fondness. Here he was with the two most important people in his life, both alive and well. Obi-Wan could not think of a better place to be.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan immediately knew something was wrong when their ship touched down in Coruscant. The Force was heavy with sadness and grief, and when he and Anakin helped Qui-Gon off the landing pad, Obi-Wan intercepted a group of young padawans hurrying off and asked what was going on.

“It’s Master Windu,” the young woman bit her lip, eyes red from unshed tears. “His mission went horribly wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked, dread creeping into his heart. It could not be. Mace Windu could not have-

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon’s hand on his shoulder pulled Obi-Wan from his thoughts. Exchanging a grim look with his Master, he took Anakin’s hand tightly in his, and together, the three of them chased after the padawans.

He was not prepared to see Windu’s body lying so still and lifeless atop the funeral pyre, hands folded over his chest. Obi-Wan could sense Anakin’s confusion at everyone’s sadness. He wrapped a comforting arm around the boy’s shoulder and drew him closer.

“Who is that?” Anakin whispered, peering up at him and Qui-Gon.

“A great Jedi Master, Ani,” Qui-Gon murmured sadly as Master Yoda began his speech.

 

* * *

 

The sudden unexpected passing of a Jedi Master shook the Senate, the Jedi Council and most of all, Obi-Wan. His memories of the past placed Windu’s death at a much later period. Perhaps it had been his careless changing of events that had led them to this, perhaps he was not meant to save Qui-Gon. But how was the Force going to expect him to be a mere spectator when he could use his knowledge to change things for the good.

Surely things would be better with Qui-Gon alive.

The echoing thought of Anakin’s premonitions and his subsequent spiral into darkness sent a chill down Obi-Wan’s spine. He had also tried to justify his horrible actions as attempts to do good. Sighing, Obi-Wan flagged down the waitress for another drink, using his sleeve to wipe at the excess liquid on his chin.

The Jedi Council had surprisingly accepted both Obi-Wan’s Knighthood and Qui-Gon’s new Padawan apprentice. The later of which had Obi-Wan feeling both proud, relieved, and in part, jealous. Of course, with his Master alive, Anakin would be better fit for tutelage under Qui-Gon. His being Knighted would mean more missions on behalf of the Order and less time on Coruscant where Anakin would be training as a Padawan. He would miss calling the boy his young Padawan and seeing the indignant flush that would almost always follow, Obi-Wan decided somberly and took another deep drink.

“Shouldn’t you be glad to get rid of that ugly braid of yours, Kenobi?” Dex, the owner of the little establishment Ob-Wan had holed himself in, sat down opposite him and asked.

“I am,” His reply was less than enthusiastic. “It’s just-”

He was going to miss them both, Qui-Gon and Anakin. It was rare for an ex-Padawan to ever be as close to their Master after being Knighted.

“You should stop moping and go celebrate,” Dex pointed out, “isn’t tonight the only night you can break a few rules?”

Obi-Wan snorted, and mind dulled by the alcohol, he said exasperatedly, “I am over sixty years old and have single-handedly caused the creation of the galaxy’s scariest Sith Lord ever, Dex, breaking rules have pretty much lost their thrill for me by now.”

“A dramatic drunk I see,” Dex rolled his eyes, “Look, I’m not that familiar with human biology, but you’re definitely not sixty human years, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan let out a pitiful moan and finished his drink. Dex intercepted the next one before Obi-Wan could lift it to his mouth. Quite a lot of the liquid splashed over his robes and down his front.

“You’ve had enough, kid,” Dex said, “either go live a little or go home, Kenobi.”

 

* * *

 

“Obi-Wan, wake up,” An insistent tug on his shirt was quickly followed by small fingers poking at the side of his face. “Obi-Wan!”

He grunted and rolled over, managing to recognize the head of golden hair standing at his bedside through the massive hangover headache and the sliver of moonlight from his window in the darkness. Obi-Wan groaned and Anakin put a hand over his nose at the strong scent. Hit with the sudden urge to vomit, the older man bolted from the bed and stumbled quickly into the refresher. After emptying the contents of his stomach and cleaning his mouth, Obi-Wan staggered back into his bedroom to find Anakin in the middle of changing his sheets to fresh ones.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Ani,” He said guiltily, rushing over to help him smooth the sheets down. Frowning, he asked, “how did you get in here?”

“I hacked your room lock,” Anakin chirped, sounding all too awake at this hour. He then added in a much more hesitant voice, “sorry to wake you, but I couldn’t sleep.”

Ah, Obi-Wan thought as much. The boy had nodded off against his shoulder on a few occasions during the mission, but it was the first proper night away from his mother.

“You should have gone to your Master, Ani,” Obi-Wan said gently, gesturing for Anakin to sit next to him.

“But, you said I could come to you, too,” Anakin pointed out, then, lowering his gaze, he admitted quietly, “I didn’t want him to think I was weak. I’m already too old according to the scary old geezers sitting in the chairs.”

“Oh, Anakin, you are not weak, dearest one,” Despite his headache, Obi-Wan laughed at his description of the Jedi Council, “and yes, you can always come to me. We have a special connection, you and I.”

“Really?” Looking much more relieved, the child smiled back shyly. “Can I stay with you here tonight, Obi?”

“You may, Ani, but I am moving to the Knight Barracks tomorrow, so this room will be yours as you will take my place as Master Qui-Gon Jinn’s padawan.” Obi-Wan explained as Anakin wriggled under the covers next to him.

“Can I still come visit you there?” Anakin asked eagerly.

“You might not have time with all the training Master Qui-Gon has planned for you,” Obi-Wan dodged the question and settled down next to him, curling his body around the small child he had failed to protect from evil a lifetime ago.

“I will make time for you, always,” Anakin vowed, pumping a small fist into the air.

Obi-Wan chuckled, sending his gentle amusement and fondness over their bond as he said, “Alright, but now you are to sleep, youngling.”

He watched the boy’s face slowly smooth out in sleep, the soft blond locks curling gently behind his ears, his plump cheek resting trustingly on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. The Force was a peaceful, comforting thrum around them when Obi-Wan finally surrendered himself to sleep, knowing that at least this version of Anakin was safe from the grasps of darkness.

For now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my sweet Lord, guys. Thank you SO MUCH for the warm welcome into the SW fandom. I admit I may have fallen in too deep, but seriously, you guys are awesome. I'm so excited to write more. 
> 
> Anyway, drop me a comment, because I live for those, and I'll try to update soon! Last semester of undergrad is coming up for me and I tend to lose interest in writing.
> 
> NOTE: There is a potential self-harm trigger in this chapter involving Obi-Wan. It is definitely not attempting to romanticize self-harm, but for plot-sake.

Obi-Wan stared at his reflection in the mirror. The young face peering back was both familiar and utterly strange. His hair had grown a bit out of the Padawan cut after a two-week-mission away from Coruscant. The out-of-body sensation had been pushed to the back of Obi-Wan’s mind during the heat of battle, but now that he was back in the Knight’s Barracks, surrounded by old friends and young faces, it resurfaced full-force.

He was no longer Ben Kenobi, but he didn’t feel like he was this youthful version of Obi-Wan Kenobi either.

Fighting back the surge of dysphoria, he dug blunt nails into the already congealing wound in the middle of his palm. It made the cut bleed again, but the pain grounded him somehow, serving as a reminder that this was his body now. It was a good body, Obi-Wan reasoned desperately, he had forgotten how amazing it felt to be so strong, to be able to jump so high, and coupled with his memories and experiences, he and Aayla had defeated the enemy army with ease. She had even commented on his expertise on their journey back.

Pressing his face against the cool metal wall beside the mirror, Obi-Wan reached out to Anakin through their bond. He had tried to ignore the escalating aching need to track down the boy ever since touching down on Coruscant, but in this moment of weakness, he caved and gave in to the desire.

“The adorable stray Padawan’s here again!” A muffled voice yelled outside the fresher where Obi-Wan had locked himself in.

Eyes snapping open, he poked his head out just in time to see the excited female Jedi disappear around the corner. It couldn’t be, Obi-Wan reasoned as he took off after her, Anakin would not be so bold as to—

He skidded to a halt at the bizarre sight of the four hulking Jedi Knights standing in a circle around something small.

“Excuse me, is Knight Kenobi back yet?” Anakin’s voice, although timid, did not waver. Much.

“Why, he just got back a few hours ago, young one,” Bant said as Obi-Wan sagged against the wall, a short bark of laughter escaping his mouth before he could stop it. How could he have doubted for a second that Anakin would do anything less than sneak off to the Knight’s Barracks to find him?

Pushing his way through, Obi-Wan sank to his knees in front of the child who had apparently stolen one of Qui-Gon’s old shirts to use as a disguise. It trailed after Anakin like the massive train of a wedding dress.

“Obi, do you like my new Padawan haircut?” Anakin’s arms shot out and Obi-Wan caught him mid-leap.

“Of course, Ani,” He laughed and embraced the child tightly.

“You left without saying goodbye,” Anakin accused, pouting threateningly.

“I was called away during the middle of the night to assist in a mission, Anakin,” Obi-Wan explained gently, “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Aww, that’s adorable, Knight Kenobi,” Aayla, who was watching them with interest, teased. “Is he yours?”

“No, Aayla, Anakin is my Master’s new Padawan learner,” Shooting the smirking Knights a withering glare, Obi-Wan took Anakin’s hand and led him out of his new quarters.

“Ani, have you been coming here every night?” He asked once they were out of earshot of the other Jedi Knights and safely tucked out of the public eye in a corner of the hall.

“No?” Anakin tried.

“Ani.”

“Yes.” Tiny shoulders sagged in defeat. Anakin sniffed, “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan.”

“Does Qui-Gon know?”

“I don’t think so,” Anakin fiddled nervously with the tent-like shirt draped around him, “Please don’t tell Master Qui-Gon, I won’t do it again. It’s just...I really missed you.”

“I missed you too, dear one,” Obi-Wan sighed, "but you must sever all attachments in order to become a good Jedi. That is the Code we adhere to.”

The familiar words tasted stale in his mouth. Here he was parroting the set of beliefs he no longer strictly followed like the poster-boy Jedi.

“Is that what you are doing? Severing all attachments?” Red-rimmed eyes peered up at Obi-Wan, but Anakin was too stubborn of a child to let his distress boil over into tears.

“I’m clearly not a very good example, Ani,” Tucking Anakin closer to his side, Obi-Wan gently dropped his chin atop his soft blond head.

“Well then, I don’t want to be the greatest Jedi anymore. I can be the best average Jedi, like you,” The child decided immediately.

_“Anakin.”_

“What about just one attachment?” Anakin asked shyly, then, pausing to look down at his shirt, “or two.”

There was no bitterness or anger in his voice, just an unwavering sense of hope.

_How was Obi-Wan supposed to protect this bright innocent child from this relentless world?_

Suddenly feeling like a weary old man again, he sighed, “Ani, it's getting late, you should head back before Master Qui-Gon finds you missing.”

“But I want to stay with you…” Anakin was close to pouting again when he hurled his arms tightly around Obi-Wan’s neck and buried his face in his shoulder.

“Well, Jedi Code prohibits Padawans from staying in the Knight’s Barracks, Ani,” Obi-Wan pointed out patiently, “and I no longer have a spot in Qui-Gon’s apartment.”

The sly little rascal let out a loud fake snore and ignored all of Obi-Wan’s gentle attempts to dislodge him. The disciplined Jedi he had been years ago would never have allowed such intimacy, but Obi-Wan's time in exile had weathered him down to a husk of what he had been before.

“Oh, Anakin, what am I supposed to do with you?” Letting out a soft chuckle, Obi-Wan wrapped a loose arm around the child and settled himself into a more comfortable position for meditation. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes —

— and that was how Qui-Gon found them, current Padawan clinging tightly to former Padawan, both sprawled gracelessly behind the potted plant in the hallway outside of Obi-Wan’s new quarters, sound asleep.

 

* * *

 

When Obi-Wan next woke, he found himself in his old room, adjacent to Qui-Gon’s own bedroom. Well, technically it was Anakin’s now.

He must’ve been more exhausted from the mission than he had expected to have nodded off during a meditation session and slept through being moved all the way from the Knight’s Barracks to his old Master’s apartment.

His old Master’s apartment.

_How had he gotten to Qui-Gon’s apartment?!_

Cold sweat broke out over Obi-Wan’s palms, the wound on his left hand stinging when he gently eased a still asleep Anakin off his chest and slipped out from beneath the soft sheets. Qui-Gon was reading something from a data-pad in the living room when Obi-Wan snuck guiltily out of Anakin’s room.

Without turning, his Master called out, “come sit, Obi-Wan.”

Busted.

Face burning with embarrassment, Obi-Wan did as he was told and sat down gingerly on the other end of the sofa. Qui-Gon’s lips curled up in a small smile at the sight of him, hair a rumpled mess and Anakin’s pillow prints still fresh on the right side of his face.

“Master, did you-”

“If you are asking how you got here, yes, I did carry you both back here.”

Obi-Wan palmed his face with a pained groan. After a pause, he courageously opened his mouth again, “did anyone see?”

“Only Master Plo,” Qui-Gon said mildly, opening up another hologram on his pad, “he offered to help me search when my new Padawan went missing. Yet again. I tried to decline, but you know how Plo is when he has his mind set on something.”

“You knew where Anakin was?” Obi-Wan asked, wincing.

“Of course, I followed the boy on the first night. Quite impressive I must say, Anakin's persistent at least. He has been sneaking off to the Knight’s Barracks for a whole fortnight,” Qui-Gon continued calmly, “although why he insists on stealing my favorite nightshirt as a disguise cloak every time still eludes me.”

“Maybe because it’s the perfect shade of beige, Master,” He couldn’t restrain himself from commenting.

“I see your sense of humor survived the embarrassment, my young Padawan,” Qui-Gon’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, and Obi-Wan was suddenly struck by how much he missed theses quiet conversations with his old Master. “So how was your first solo mission as a Jedi Knight?”

“It’ll take some time getting used to,” He admitted honestly and clenched his hand around the wound in his palm again, “but things went smoothly.”

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon called out. He looked up and met his Master’s searching gaze. “You are troubled. What is wrong, young one?”

He wanted so much to tell Qui-Gon the truth about everything, ask him for advice, and lament all the horrible decisions he had made in his past, but Obi-Wan knew deep down that it would only bring more complications, and right now, the last thing he needed was more complications.

Checking his mental shields, Obi-Wan said instead, “I have failed your teachings, Master.”

The disappointment in Qui-Gon’s eyes was like a physical punch to the chest. His Master straightened, and the tattered remains of their decade-long bond dimmed once more. Qui-Gon stroked his chin, “if you think you have failed me because of your connection with Anakin, then, I have taught you nothing, Obi-Wan.”

“Master, I—“

“The Force works in mysterious ways, it is not a set of rigid regulations like the Council wants you to believe,” Qui-Gon pointed out, “How can we be expected not to love when there is so much love in the Living Force around us? Your bond with Anakin is a manifestation of that love, Obi-Wan. Not everything you do is a straight ticket to the Dark side, not every form of love turns to obsession or hatred, most lead to strength and selflessness.”

“Of course, Master,” Obi-Wan murmured, staring at the blood-soaked bandages around his palm, lost in thought.

“Do not dwell too much on the past or future, Obi-Wan. Keep your concentration here and now, where it belongs,” Qui-Gon reminded, “now let me treat that wound of your properly before it scars.”

“You know,” Obi-Wan lifted his left hand, studying the dark red color in the white cloth, “I kind of want it to scar. It will be a reminder of your wise teaching, to carry with me always.”

“There’s no need for dramatics, Padawan. I could easily write it down for you, absent of any permanent bodily modifications,” Qui-Gon said drily. Obi-Wan shook his head stubbornly and his old master sighed, “alright, at least let me make sure it has not gotten infected. We wouldn’t want you to lose that limb, would we?”

 _He would truly be a better Master for Anakin,_ Obi-Wan thought serenely as Qui-Gon neatly wrap the clean bandages around his palm. He caught Qui-Gon’s fingers before he could pull away.

“One day, I will tell you everything, Master Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan promised quietly. Qui-Gon took his injured hand in his warm dry ones. Trust flared through their residual bond.

“Of course, Padawan.”

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan leaned against the pillar, strategically hidden from sight, as he watched Anakin chatter animatedly alongside Qui-Gon, his much shorter legs pumping at full speed to keep up with his Master. It didn’t seem to deter him from speaking, and Obi-Wan had to look away to keep from smiling at the endearing sight as the two carried their bags over to the ship. Anakin was to go on a light diplomatic trip with Qui-Gon for a few days, at least that was about as much as Obi-Wan made out when Anakin barreled his way into the Knight Barracks two days ago to tell him the good news.

Anakin had demanded that he come see them off, and so here he was, ’seeing’ them off...from a certain point of view.

Obi-Wan had not expected to see Palpatine approach with a group of senators. His hands clenched into fists at the sight of the Sith Lord, hidden in plain sight and the biggest factor leading to Anakin’s fall. Palpatine was speaking to Qui-Gon about the details of their trip, but Anakin had paused to peer curiously up at the old man and his overdressed friends.

Heart pounding and suddenly struck with a fierce protective urge to intervene, Obi-Wan reached for their bond and tugged hard. Sure enough, the child’s head whipped around in his direction. Frowning, Anakin took a few hesitant steps toward Obi-Wan’s hiding spot, saw him standing there, and broke into a full run, tackling the startled Jedi Knight around the waist. Obi-Wan hurriedly cupped a hand over the boy’s mouth before he could speak.

“You came!” Anakin’s muffled yell made him wince. Obi-Wan placed a finger over his lips and waited for Anakin’s nod of understanding.

“Of course I came, dear one,” Obi-Wan knelt down in front of him with a fond smile, “you asked me to, didn’t you?”

“Will you miss me when I am away?” Anakin demanded.

“You know the answer to that question, Ani,” He pointed out, straightening the boy’s rumpled tunic with gentle fingers. “Be careful out there, listen to your Master, and—”

The newly formed scar stretched the skin of Obi-Wan’s palm as he smoothed an affectionate hand over Anakin’s spiky Padawan cut.

“I love you, Ani,” He said quietly.

Obi-Wan had not said those words nearly enough in the past.

“I love you too, Obi,” Anakin answered with a beaming smile.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” He reached inside the pocket of his tunic and pulled out a small squarish piece tied to a length of leather. “I carved this for you. It brings good luck.”

“For me?” Curious, Obi-Wan accepted the small piece of smooth wood. It looked similar to something Padme had tried to give him once, but the memory was hazy in the back of his mind. Smiling, Obi-Wan slipped it around his wrist. “Thank you, Anakin. I will treasure it with my life.”

“Ani? Now where has the boy run off to?” They both froze at the sound of Qui-Gon’s voice. “Anakin, we are about to lift off!”

“Go on, Ani, you don’t want to keep your Master waiting,” Obi-Wan whispered guiltily.

“See you when I get back, Obi-Wan!” Anakin replied hurriedly before bolting from their little hideout.

Obi-Wan watched the boy slam into the back of Qui-Gon’s legs, his Master turning to laugh when Anakin rubbed at his bruised nose with a scowl. He stayed until they finished packing the rest of their supplies, Anakin’s gaze lingering in his direction before the child followed Qui-Gon into the ship.

“May the Force be with you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered, fingers tight around the small charm as he watched their ship disappear into the clouds.

He would not let Palpatine sway Anakin to the Dark side so easily this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you don't know my writing, I like fluff. And I like to fix things, and I LOVE the whole family-of-choice trope, so...
> 
> But there will be attempts at plot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super long chapter for me. There is a big time jump in this chapter. Next one will be around the time of Attack of the Clones. I apparently lied, there will be some form of plot. 
> 
> This chapter starts off somewhere before Dooku reached out to Asajj Ventress about the Dark side and all that. 
> 
> Also, as a heads up. Anakin has a (currently one-sided) crush on Obi-Wan, who is clueless and chalks it up to the kid going through his teen years.

_Seven Years Later_

“Persistent, aren’t we, little Jedi.”

The silken words were followed by a sharp kick to the face that Obi-Wan narrowly dodged. He slipped and stumbled on the rain-slicked metal and Asajj Ventress threw back her head and laughed when his lightsaber went skidding away.

“Go back to your Master, novice pup,” Powering down her own weapon, Ventress sneered and turned to leave.

“Asajj, wait!” Obi-Wan wheezed, and in a last-ditch attempt to catch her attention with a well-intentioned warning, “your Master is an evil overlord—”

He did not expect her to whirl around before he could even finish the sentence, blue eyes blazing with a sudden blistering rage, “halt your wretched tongue, Jedi scum, lest I rip it from your skull.”

Her lightsaber met the ground between Obi-Wan’s legs with a teeth-grinding hiss that almost made him wet himself with how close it was to grazing his privates. Obi-Wan hastily rolled out of the way, using the Force to call his own saber back to his side. He had not expected her to react so strongly to the mention of Count Dooku.

“Dooku is a Sith Lord, Asajj!” Obi-Wan tried again.

“Ky was a noble man who taught me everything I know!” Ventress screamed at the same time.

Silence fell between them.

“Who the hell is Dooku?” Ventress recovered first, and using her superior combat skills, sent Obi-Wan sprawling with a kick. Huffing impatiently, Obi-Wan picked himself off of the ground, robes and hair now utterly soaked with water.

He slicked his hair back, muttering under his breath as he backed away from her unrelenting assault, “apologies, my memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“Just, please,” Eyeing her lightsaber uneasily, he held up a hand, “look Asajj, you might not understand this now, but beware of a man called Count Dooku, he will try to sway you to the dark side, but—”

“What are you, from the future?” Ventress didn’t sound very impressed. Her weapon was inching toward Obi-Wan’s throat, the disturbed air around the plasma blade tickling his carefully groomed and equally precious facial hair.

“Something like that,” Letting out a panicked laugh, Obi-Wan sucked in an unsteady breath and said, “Asajj, I swear upon my life when I say that you will be much better off if you refuse Dooku’s offer.”

“Why do you care, little Jedi?” She demanded.

“Because,” Obi-Wan thought hard, “underneath all that, there is still Light in you and—”

The steel wall above Obi-Wan’s head exploded in a shower of sparks as Ventress tore through the metal with her lightsaber.

“Force, are you mad, woman?” Ducking to avoid the sparks, Obi-Wan smelt the strong scent of singed hair. Thankfully, the rain doused the flames before they could do any serious damage.

The assassin let out a sharp bitter laugh as she retreated into the darkness, “Go home to your perfect little ideal Jedi world, boy. You will not survive in the Outer Rim.”

“I am not a boy,” He called after her, tinny voice lost in the thundering drum of the rain around them, “and it’s not ‘little Jedi’ or ‘pup’ either, I have a name, it’s Obi-Wan Kenobi!”

“I do not care, Jedi scum,” Came the distant sneer, followed by the ugly sound of Ventress sticking her lightsaber into the side of his starfighter somewhere beyond the heavy relentless sheets of rain.

“Women, huh?” Obi-Wan sat down by his screeching R4 droid and wiped an exhausted hand over his wet face. By the time he finally pushed R4 up the slippery, mud-ridden path to the ship, Ventress had long left the planet.

“It’s not that bad, Arfour, old friend,” Obi-Wan mused, inspecting his somewhat crispy beard in R4’s shiny chrome top, “guess all those hours listening to Anakin’s droning commentary about fighter repairs are finally going to pay off. I’ll go grab the tool kit.”

 

* * *

 

Things had not been easy for Obi-Wan Kenobi over the years. The Senate was the same as ever, and while he had not noticed how frustrating the Jedi Council was the first time, Obi-Wan certainly noticed now. He had tried to avoid those interactions as much as possible, turning a deaf ear to the whispers of ‘ _Qui-Gon’s ex-padawan is as much of a loose cannon as him_ ’ that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Time away from the Jedi Temple had started to become a relief as he much preferred the solo missions he was assigned. They gave him the opportunity to finish the task ahead of expected return time and Obi-Wan could use the extra days to follow Dooku around, which he had been doing whenever time permitted. It was easier said than done, what with the Count’s unpredictable schedule and R4’s initial refusal to erase their ship travel logs. His most recent attempt had culminated in his disastrous run-in with Asajj Ventress, who had no doubt been hired by Dooku through one of his numerous lackeys. Although, Obi-Wan may have jumped the gun on this one by telling Ventress of her employer’s true identity.

To make things even harder, Obi-Wan had noticed a recent spiking increase in missions assigned with the "Dynamic Duo" as dubbed by a frustrated/amused/grudgingly impressed Ki-Adi-Mundi, who had, along with several other Jedi Council members, summoned Obi-Wan one day and bestowed upon the young Jedi Knight the honorable role of “ _Jedi Supervisor to the Chosen One,_ ” which pretty much translated to a desperate cry for help of “ _please teach Padawan Skywalker the definition of the word ‘no’ and thwart his many attempts to kill us all with his crazy antics because your old Master certainly isn’t helping at all._ ”

— which led to the heart of the problem, and the main reason why Obi-Wan tossed and turned at night.

Anakin Skywalker, The Chosen One.

Obi-Wan had thought that handing the reins over to Qui-Gon would resolve most of Anakin’s frustrations and anger growing up, which did to an extent, but he had also hoped fervently that Qui-Gon Jinn’s calm personality and gentle nature would rub off at least a little on the hot-headed boy.

Obi-Wan was gravely mistaken.

In fact, Anakin seemed even more confident in making rash and sometimes heart-stopping (at least for Obi-Wan) split-second decisions that would send them hurtling into Death’s loving embrace only to be dragged back to the land of the Living by Anakin’s daredevil flying, lightning-fast reflexes, and Obi-Wan’s nonstop attempts at backseat driving.

And then would come the smug, patented _I told you so, Obi-Wan_ smile, and a quick exchange with Qui-Gon, who would sometimes offer an affectionate pat on the shoulder or say “ _another job well done, Ani. See? The force will never fail you_ ,” while Obi-Wan clutched at his pounding heart, frothing at the mouth.

No, his old Master, as it seemed, had decided not to introduce discipline or grace into Anakin’s Padawan learning curriculum whatsoever, because —

_“Obi-Wan!”_

Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly (mostly in despair) at the familiar tackling hug, followed by Anakin sweeping him off his feet in front of the shocked and scandalized workers in the Jedi Temple’s Docking Bay. Now at the age of sixteen, the boy was taller than him and took every chance to shove that painful fact in Obi-Wan’s face. Anakin’s excitement and affection came in heavy pulsating waves across their bond, and despite his frustrations at the failed side-mission, Obi-Wan found himself relaxing into the embrace, reaching up a hand and curling it into the soft fine hairs at the base of Anakin’s neck.

“Hello, dear one,” He murmured, warmth crawling back into his chest after spending a week in the wet and cold.

“How was the trip?” Obi-Wan opened his eyes at the sound of Qui-Gon’s soft voice.

“It went well, Master Qui-Gon,” He replied with a short amused laugh, “but I’m afraid the reason Her Highness signed our alliance treaty was to spend more time with, and I quote, ‘ _the handsome Jedi prince._ ’”

“A small sacrifice to be made for peace in the galaxy, my former Padawan,” Qui-Gon shook his head with an amused smile.

Anakin scowled.

“The Council need to stop pimping you out like some cheap whore to those thirsty women in exchange for a dwindling alliance, Obi-Wan.” He declared, ignoring Obi-Wan’s choking splutter, “I should have a word with them and put an end to this disgraceful violation of the Jedi Code.”

“Now you cite the Jedi Code?” Obi-Wan eyed the arms around his waist pointedly.

Anakin didn’t make any move to drop them, “We agreed, remember? I can have a few attachments.”

“Anakin, no.” Obi-Wan said firmly.

“Anakin, yes!” The boy pouted.

“I didn’t teach him that,” Qui-Gon held up an innocent hand when Obi-Wan turned to him with an accusatory glare.

“You didn’t exactly dissuade him, either!”

“The Force—” Qui-Gon began wisely.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and side-stepped the duo, “don’t bring the Force into this one, Master. It only worked once.”

“Are you staying with us tonight, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked eagerly, falling into step beside Qui-Gon.

“If Master Qui-Gon agrees, perhaps I will think about it,” Obi-Wan answered vaguely.

“Of course he will, and you can sleep in my bed,” Anakin leered suggestively, or tried to. Obi-Wan couldn’t really tell whether it was intense constipation or a mild stroke.

_What in the Force was the boy trying to do?_

"How gallant of you to offer to sleep on the couch, young Padawan. Your Master has taught you well." Obi-Wan said breezily, punching a button to signal for the next lift.

"You know that's not what I mean," Anakin huffed, "I meant me and you in my bed together.”

Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, Obi-Wan quickly sealed the glass doors before Anakin could hop on like the persistent shadow he had quickly become over the years.

"Obi-Wan, did you hear me? _Together!"_

If he were to be completely honest with himself, Obi-Wan still couldn’t figure out, even the second time around, what exactly had led to the transformation of such an angelic youngling into the obnoxious teenager waving an affronted fist at him while Qui-Gon shook his head and watched from the sidelines.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Obi-Wan was assigned a mission alongside Quinlan Vos. When he arrived at the landing pad and saw Qui-Gon and Anakin waiting beside a smirking Vos, Obi-Wan almost turned tail and fled. Surely the Force would not test his patience like this…

“Hey Kenobi,” A rough voice called, and before Obi-Wan could dive into the decorative bush on his left, Vos had spotted him. Grinning like a lunatic, the other Jedi threw an arm around his neck and dragged Obi-Wan along, “Looking good, I’m totally digging the beard, Princess.”

“Hello to you too, Vos,” Obi-Wan muttered wearily, then, turning to Qui-Gon and a glaring Anakin, he said, “thank you for coming to see me off, Master Qui-Gon, but—”

“Oh, no, we are coming along,” Qui-Gon interrupted gently, gesturing to the fighter parked behind them, “after you, Anakin.”

“Four Jedi for one mission? Have the Council gone mad?” He sputtered, blinking when Anakin strode forward and aggressively crowded Quinlan out of the way.

“Yup, we’ll be there _every second_ of the mission,” Anakin emphasized with a growl, fisting a hand in Obi-Wan’s tunic and pulling him away from a smirking Vos who hopped on after Qui-Gon.

“I’m flying,” Quinlan said, plopping down in the pilot seat, “you’re my co-pilot, Kenobi.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Obi-Wan sighed.

“I can do it, I’m a better flyer anyway,” Anakin piped up, a vein throbbing in his neck. He was still glaring daggers at Quinlan for some reason.

“Cocky kid you got there, Master Jinn,” Vos shot a wink at a passive Qui-Gon. “Alright, I’ll bite. Seat’s yours, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan blanched. “Absolutely not, Anakin. You are not flying this metal deathtrap with that deranged lunatic!”

“You should sit down and strap on the seat belt, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon reminded a horrified Obi-Wan as the fighter rumbled to life beneath their feet.

 

* * *

 

“Obi, are you ok?” Anakin called after him when they landed and Obi-Wan rushed outside into the bushes.

“Empty it into the Force, Kenobi,” Quinlan offered gleefully.

“I despise you with all my being, Vos,” Obi-Wan croaked when he finally finished vomiting into the dirt and wiped his mouth with a grimace.

“Love you too,” Quinlan laughed. He turned to Anakin, whose smile had vanished again, “nice reflexes, kid.”

“Better than yours, old man,” Anakin bit out angrily.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan scolded, “that is no way to speak to a Jedi Knight.”

Anakin shot him a hurt look, “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“We don’t have time for this,” Qui-Gon cut in before the three of them could start a brawl in the dirt like misbehaving boys, “Padawan, go with Obi-Wan to free the prisoners. Quinlan and I will track down the Separatist leaders. Keep your communicators on, and only use them in an emergency.”

Anakin beamed at the assignment of partners, but trudged over to his Master when Qui-Gon pulled him aside for a few quick private words.

“Kid doesn’t like me much, does he?” Vos nudged Obi-Wan.

“Understatement of the century, Vos,” Obi-Wan murmured back.

“Behave yourself, Ani,” Qui-Gon said before motioning for Quinlan to follow.

“Don’t worry, I will protect you, Obi-Wan,” The sixteen-year-old Padawan learner puffed out his chest. Obi-Wan would have found it endearing if he weren’t still feeling ill from Anakin and Vos’s crazy competitive flying from earlier.

“Keep your mouth shut and follow my orders, Padawan Skywalker,” He reminded, tugging on Anakin’s braid for emphasis. Anakin scowled, ears reddening.

They found the native planet prisoners with relative ease, although Obi-Wan was starting to get a little suspicious of Anakin’s enthusiastic agreement to cover his back while they crawled through meters of tight tubing. After knocking out the guards and retrieving the keys, Obi-Wan was surprised to find a familiar form shackled to a wall, unconscious and still bleeding from a side wound.

“Ventress!” He pushed past Anakin to inspect the injured woman.

“Who’s she?” Anakin’s approach was more cautious, “another one of your countless conquests, Obi-Wan?”

“Keep a lookout for any enemy soldiers while I cut her loose, Anakin,” Obi-Wan ordered.

Ventress stirred weakly when Obi-Wan set her down gently on her uninjured side. Her eyes fluttered open and focused on his face, “Little Jedi…”

“You’re safe,” Obi-Wan assured her, fumbling in his med-pack for a bacta patch and clotting agent. “We will get you out of here, Asajj.” He grimaced and added, “apologies, my lady, but I will have to partially undress you to get to the wound.”

Ventress laughed weakly, “only you would still be so courteous in a situation like this.”

“Brace yourself, this will hurt.” He warned.

“Promises, promises, Jedi,” Hissing, Ventress bared her teeth at him when he pressed the clotting agent to the glistening wound. Obi-Wan gathered the injured assassin into his arms carefully after giving her a few moments to breath through the pain.

“Can you stand?” He asked worriedly.

“I refuse to let you carry me,” Ventress slapped his hands away.

“I’m not that bad, am I?” Feigning hurt, Obi-Wan straightened.

“No, you’re not, you’re just stupid,” Ventress shot back. She sounded almost playful.

“Not to cut the flirting short, but we have company,” Anakin called out from the door, and sure enough, there were two stray soldiers running their way, blasters raised. They both stopped short a few feet from Anakin, weapons flying from their fingers as they grasped at their throats and choked.

“Asajj, don’t!” Obi-Wan yelled, but the woman next to him did not lower her hand until the men went limp. She flung them away, breathing hard.

“Whoa,” Anakin was looking at her with a new-found respect, “hey lady, can you teach me that?”

“You’re not learning anything from her, Ani,” Obi-Wan stepped between the two before Anakin could get his hopes up, “Asajj, do you have a way off this planet?”

“I’m sure I will think of something,” She murmured, pulling a blaster from one of the bodies. Obi-Wan grimaced when she stepped over the dead man.

“Very well, I still have two more bacta patches and a few adrenaline shots,” He handed over the med-pack. “Take care of yourself.”

“He contacted me, this Dooku of yours,” Ventress whispered, her long fingers suddenly clenching in Obi-Wan’s belt and pulling him close.

Eyes widening, Obi-Wan asked, “what did you…what did you say?”

“What do you think?” She sneered, “besides, I work better on my own.”

Relief washed over Obi-Wan, “thank you, Asajj.”

A loud cough from behind signaled Anakin’s presence. He felt the boy’s dark eyes drilling into the back of his neck. A slow smirk spread over Ventress’ pale beautiful face. Then, making sure to lock eyes with the annoyed Padawan, she pulled Obi-Wan into a searing kiss before shoving him away and sauntering off without another backward glance.

“Till next time, _Kenobi._ ”

Face flushed and heart pounding, Obi-Wan wiped his mouth hurriedly on his sleeve. He cleared his throat and gave Anakin a pointed look, “not a word, Padawan.”

“If you _ever_ try to lecture me on the Jedi Code again, I’m telling the Council about your girlfriend,” Anakin said coldly, completely disregarding Obi-Wan’s warning.

“She’s not my—”

“I’m traumatized, Obi-Wan.”

“Anakin…”

“I’ll feel better if you kissed me though.” Anakin was relentless as they made their way back to the ship.

“We are not doing this again, Padawan Skywalker,” Obi-Wan lectured patiently. Anakin had been an extremely needy child in the past, but recently it was getting a little out of hand. “For the thousandth time, I am not a teat, and you are not a cub that need to be weened,”

“You are so a teat,” A voice cackled from behind, “In fact, from now on—”

“Oh, you survived,” Obi-Wan turned around to see Vos’ ugly mug. _“How unfortunate.”_

“We have the identities of the leaders,” Qui-Gon informed them, “I take it your rescue mission went smoothly, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes,” He said before Anakin could open his mouth.

“Very well, time to leave.”

“I’ll fly this time,” Obi-Wan said quickly, shoving Quinlan out of the way and dragging his old Master along. “Master Qui-Gon, be my co-pilot?”

“It will be my honor,” Qui-Gon’s eyes twinkled with mirth when Anakin huffed and began to complain, his words fading into comfortable background noise as Obi-Wan started the engine and lifted their ship off the fiery red planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss writing about Baby Ani. 
> 
> Pop me a comment or kudos. This pairing doesn't seem to get as much love as some other SW pairings. 
> 
> Also, I saw TLJ yesterday! It was disappointing what they did with Luke's character. There's just none of that magic like there was in the original trilogy anymore. I did like the Gingerpilot trolling scene though


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anakin is 19 in this chapter.

_Three Years Later_

“I cannot believe you accepted the bounty job on Senator Amidala, Asajj,” Obi-Wan tried to project every ounce of his disappointment into his voice, but Ventress merely lifted an elegant brow and took an extra loud pull on her straw, making the contents of her poisonous green drink fizz dangerously. Obi-Wan didn’t even know Dex served whatever the thing she was drinking and he had been eat at the diner since his Padawan years.

“I’m giving you a heads up, aren’t I?” She smirked, her foot brushing not so casually against his leg under the table.

“About that,” Obi-Wan said, trying not to flush, “why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t like to owe people favors, Kenobi,” Finishing the last dregs of her mystery drink, Ventress stood gracefully, “Consider us even now.”

“You told me there were more than one assassin, Asajj,” Obi-Wan followed her outside after paying for their food, “do you know the identities of the other bounty hunters?”

"I might,” She said vaguely.

“Asajj, we cannot let anything happen to Senator Amidala,” Obi-Wan pled, “She is the only hope for the Republic.”

“What is this ‘we' nonsense? I do not work with you, Jedi,” Ventress rolled her eyes, “I will make sure it is quick and painless for your precious girlfriend.”

“She is not my—” Obi-Wan huffed, folding his arms over his chest, “why does everyone keep doing that?”

“Because you are awfully pretty when you blush. Thanks for the drink, Kenobi,” She patted him on the cheek and turned to leave.

“Asajj,” He called after the bounty hunter, “you realize that I cannot let you do this, right?”

Her only reply was a sharp laugh.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, Obi-Wan began the trip back to the Jedi Temple. He needed to inform the Council so that they could increase the security measures before Senator Padme Amidala could arrive at Coruscant.

 

* * *

 

“Master Kenobi, may I have a private word with you?”

Those were the last words he wanted to hear, but the moment Yoda ended the meeting, Chancellor Palpatine signaled for his attention. It wasn’t as if Obi-Wan could use old age/poor hearing as an excuse anymore. That had working great with Luke in the past. Whenever he abruptly walked out of one of Luke’s rants, the boy just blamed it on him being a crazy senile sand hermit.

“Chancellor,” Obi-Wan greeted politely. He clenched his fists within the voluminous sleeves of his Jedi tunic at the sight of the Sith Lord hidden in plain sight.

“I have heard of your impressive achievements from Master Yoda, young Master Kenobi,” Chancellor Palpatine’s smile did not reach his eyes, “it is unfortunate that you and I have not gotten more closely acquainted over the years.”

“I am not brave enough for politics, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan murmured.

Palpatine laughed, “A hero of the Republic with a sense of humor, now isn’t that refreshing?”

“Surely you did not call me here just to praise me for something that happened decades ago,” Obi-Wan’s impatience was starting to bleed through the calm mask.

“No, I suppose not,” Palpatine mused, stroking his chin, “tell me, Master Kenobi, how did you come to know about the bounty on Senator Amidala?”

Of all the things Obi-Wan expected him to say, this was not it. He had to think fast.

“It came to me in a vision, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan lied.

“A vision, you say? I have not heard of the Jedi’s ability to see into the future.”

“Not many believe such dreams to be visions of the future, Chancellor, but I, along with a small number of others, believe that they can be manifestations of the Force and should not be taken lightly,” Obi-Wan had learned his mistake from the past. "Besides, it would not do any harm to increase the number of Jedi assigned to Senator Amidala’s security detail.”

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Palpatine said, “that reminds me, Master Kenobi, are you close to young Skywalker?”

It took all of Obi-Wan’s training not to let his resentment toward the evil old man show through. Instead, he took a careful breath and said, “Why do you ask, Chancellor?”

“The boy talks about you quite frequently,” Palpatine said, “I am concerned about his emotional state as of late. Young Anakin confided in me that he had also experienced visions of the most grievous nature in his dreams,” he leaned close to Obi-Wan and whispered, “about his mother, Master Kenobi. Perhaps you can put the boy's worries to rest in some way. ”

“I see,” Obi-Wan replied distractedly. He reached for Anakin through their bond but the child had started to shield his thoughts from Obi-Wan recently. He had been relieved and grateful for the peace and quiet at first, but the short-lived relief was morphing into worry with every passing second.

“If you will excuse me, Chancellor, I must get going,” Obi-Wan murmured, and without waiting for a reply, he hurried out of the conference room.

 

* * *

 

There were certain pivotal moments in one's life that influenced the very fabric of time and reality around them. Meeting young Anakin Skywalker on Tatooine, Qui-Gon dying in his arms, and the heartbreaking confrontation on Mustafar… Nearly all of the defining moments in Obi-Wan’s life had revolved around Anakin, who had, to a troubling extent, become the center of his universe. This was something that Obi-Wan had realized all too late in his past life.

Meeting Padme was a pivotal moment in Anakin’s life, and now, watching the boy’s eyes light up at the mere mention of her name made Obi-Wan’s heart constrict with pain. Would he have to bear witness to the tragedy of their love a second time?

“Obi-Wan, are you alright?” Anakin’s alarmed voice, coupled with warm calloused hands, brought him spiraling back to the present. He had not learned the definition of the word ‘discretion’ even after all these years, Obi-Wan thought, face reddening under the other Jedi’s scrutiny as Anakin cupped his cheek with one hand and laid the other carefully over his forehead.

“You don’t feel warm, but you are turning an alarming shade of magenta, Obi-Wan,” Anakin shared helpfully, the hand on his forehead dropping to his waist with practiced ease.

“Thank you for the concern, Padawan Skywalker, but I am fine,” Obi-Wan quickly extracted him from the awkward embrace. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the loud snickering from Bant and Quinlan, he made his way to their assigned ship, Anakin trailing behind him with a puzzled frown.

“I’m glad the Council approved your suggestion on dispatching the Jedi to escort Padme from Naboo,” Anakin said conversationally as Obi-Wan strapped himself into the pilot’s chair without asking first. He grunted and started the fighter. There was a silent pause between them, then Anakin’s shoulders sagged. “You’re mad at me about something, aren’t you, Obi-Wan?”

“I am not,” Came the short reply.

“Yes you are, you didn’t even tell me to strap on my seat belt!”

“Anakin, put on your seat belt.”

“Now you are just being mean.”

Obi-Wan sighed and turned to face him, “why didn’t you come to me about your nightmares of your mother, Ani? Why did I have to hear about it from Palpatine of all people?”

“The Chancellor is a nice man, he listens to me, unlike everyone else who just treat me like a misbehaving child,” Anakin pointed out. He bit his lip and looked away, “I told Master Qui-Gon first, but you know how he is, he told me to live in the present and that my mom was fine, I thought you were going to do the same, so why bother?”

Ironically, he was right. The Obi-Wan from the past would have done exactly that.

"That is because you _are_ a misbehaving child," Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and said instead, "how long have you had these dreams?"

"Less than a week, but they have been becoming more vivid, I don’t know what to do, Obi-Wan," Anakin confessed.

Obi-Wan looked down at the dash. R4 had set in the coordinates to Naboo, and they were supposed to meet the other Jedi there in a few hours, but—

That urge to intervene was back, stronger than ever. He had failed Anakin in the past, but this time, Obi-Wan had a choice to make, and it might not be too late to prevent Shmi’s death.

“I mean, I know the Jedi Code says we shouldn’t have any attachments, but she’s my mother, Obi-Wan,” Anakin was saying, “Mom is probably the only person in the galaxy who loves me unconditionally, I just—”

Heart pounding, Obi-Wan punched in the manual override and changed their destination to Tatooine. He ignored R4’s frantic beeps, put the fighter on autopilot, and stood from his seat. Qui-Gon, Bant, and Quinlan will just have to escort the Senator without the two of them this time.

Anakin peered at him from where he was sprawled gracelessly in the back of the craft, “what’s wrong?”

“You are,” Obi-Wan said firmly, “Shmi is not the only one, Ani. Now shut up and put on your seatbelt.”

 

* * *

 

“This is so unlike you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin hissed at him, the lower half of his face covered with a shawl to prevent him from inhaling in a lungful of sand every time he opened his mouth to speak, which was unfortunately very often. They had landed their Republic ship over the dunes, hidden from any prying eyes. “I mean, you never break rules, you’re the golden boy of the Jedi Order, a bit weird according to the other Padawans, but still, those stuffy old geezers use you to lecture me every time I do something wro—”

“Anakin, I swear if you don’t stop talking, I will sell you back to the Hutts,” Elbowing the lanky young man in the abdomen, Obi-Wan turned and shot him an annoyed look, “and you are wrong _yet again_ , I do break the rules. Unlike you, I’m smart enough to not get caught. Stay here, I’m going to ask your old owner where your mother is.”

"Well, you're definitely going to get caught this time," Anakin called. Obi-Wan ignored him and stepped inside the shop.

After an exchange of money and verbal threats, he managed to extract the rough whereabouts of Shmi Skywalker from Watto. Obi-Wan was glad not much of her life changed. She was still married to Lars and they still had that moisture farm out in the desert. When he went to retrieve Anakin, he found the boy absent, and after a few heart-stopping minutes, saw him standing in the rundown scrap yard behind Watto’s shop, the shawl loose around his neck and blue eyes wide as he looked around.

“I can’t believe I worked here as a child,” Anakin murmured, a smile spreading over his handsome face when he spotted Obi-Wan. “I used to dream that an angel from above would swoop down and take me away.”

The sun overhead painted Anakin’s dark blond hair a fiery gold. He was reminded of the fact that the precious child Obi-Wan vowed to protect with his life was a man now.

Obi-Wan swallowed, suddenly feeling a little breathless, “Ani…”

“My wish came true,” Anakin said quietly, expression painfully fond as he peered down at the older man, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help returning the affectionate smile. Anakin pointed to the twisted white tree behind him, “you might not recall, but I carved a charm for you from a piece of japor ivory from this tree here.”

“Wrong for the third time today, young Skywalker. Haven’t I taught you not to underestimate people?” Obi-Wan murmured, lifting his sleeve to show the strip of faded leather wound tightly around his right wrist. Anakin's expression softened into open wonder as he traced a finger over the worn runes. Something rattled from within the shop and they heard the Toydarian curse loudly.

“Come on, we need to go,” Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin's hand and pulled him out of the scrapyard before Watto discovered his trespassers. He did not let go even after they were out of danger. Judging from the wide grin on his delighted face, Anakin did not mind one bit.

 

* * *

 

“Ani, is that really you?” The slim figure shielding her face from the harsh glare of the sun called out tentatively.

Beside him, Anakin let out a shout of joy and leapt off their ship before Obi-Wan could even land the thing properly. He scooped the woman into his arms and crushed her against his chest in a manner much like that of the hugs he bestowed upon Obi-Wan on a weekly basis.

“Master Kenobi,” Shmi laughed between the frantic kisses her son was pressing over her flushed face and waved at him when he disembarked from the ship with a disapproving R4. Obi-Wan, smiling broadly, waved back.

“You remember me,” He was pleasantly surprised at this.

“Oh stop it, Ani,” Shmi pressed a hand over Anakin’s mouth, then turning to Obi-Wan, she said, “of course I remember you, Anakin would not stop talking about you for a second after you found him in the scrapyard. Where is your tall friend?”

“Master Qui-Gon has something to attend to,” Obi-Wan said quietly, elbowing Anakin when he opened his mouth to speak.

“Well, tell him everything is well here,” Shmi said, carding a loving hand through Anakin’s messy Padawan cut, “Oh Ani, you’ve gotten so tall. Come on in, I need to introduce you to Cliegg and Owen. We have so much to talk about, my love.”

Exchanging a look with Anakin, Obi-Wan followed Shmi Skywalker into the small but cozy house.

 

* * *

 

Like many other dry planets, the deserts of Tatooine tended to get cold after sunset, but the heat baked into the sand escaped slowly, making the powdery substance quite comfortable to sit on. Obi-Wan knew this from past experience, but it still felt bittersweet watching the twin suns slowly dip below the horizon as he sat cross-legged in the sand.

Anakin had spent the entire afternoon trailing after Shmi like an eager puppy, chatting happily. Obi-Wan had busied himself with chores on the farm and helping out Owen with the livestock after shutting off his comlink. R4 had not been happy about that, and while Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon would be rightly angry about his deviation from the mission, he knew deep down that he would not regret this choice, not when Anakin was so blatantly happy and at peace for the first time in a long time.

“I did not expect to find you out here, old man,” Anakin’s voice was teasing, and Obi-Wan felt fingers trail along his neck, down his arm and wrap around his right wrist. The boy, no, Anakin was a man now, sat down next to him and lifted his sleeve to inspect the small charm Obi-Wan kept around his wrist at all times.

“Thank you for this, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, his thumb drawing light circles into the soft skin of Obi-Wan’s inner wrist.

“You never need to thank me, dear one,” Obi-Wan replied kindly.

Anakin bit his lip, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my dreams. I just thought—”

“I am not angry, Anakin,” Obi-Wan explained, turning to look at him, “A little hurt yes, but I suppose I am going a bit soft in my old age.”

“You’re not old, I didn’t mean it when I called you a—”

“Ani, stop trying to apologize,” Covering the boy’s hand with his own, Obi-Wan interrupted before Anakin could begin. How was he going to warn Anakin about getting too close with Palpatine without alarming him too much? “I guess I never realized how much I was used to having you running to me for everything until you stopped, and now you’d rather talk to the Chancellor than me, I just didn’t want that.”

He glanced up to gauge Anakin’s expression and found him grinning from ear to ear. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You know what people would call this, Obi-Wan?” Anakin leaned in conspiratorially.

“What?”

“Jealousy.” He was practically radiating smugness now.

“Really?” Obi-Wan studied him. Maybe this was easier than he had anticipated. “Would you stop seeing the Chancellor behind my back if I said I was?”

Anakin obviously did not expect this because Qui-Gon’s apprentice flushed a dull brick red and stammered, “u-uh, what?”

“Stop hanging out with the politicians, you know I dislike them,” Obi-Wan sighed, “Also, I miss my six-foot-two shadow, Anakin. Was Palpatine the one who finally convinced you to shield your mind from me?”

“Umm, n-no?” Anakin coughed and quickly composed himself again, although he had scooted much closer to Obi-Wan, their shoulders close enough to brush. The boy’s neck was still flushed, but that could also be a trick of the moonlight. “Why do you say that?”

“You used to share everything with me, Anakin, your day, your opinions, everything. Your own Master could not even convince you to stop. And then about a year ago, all of a sudden, nothing.”

“No, it’s not what you think. Pal— I mean the Chancellor wasn’t the one,” Anakin was definitely blushing now. He paused for a second before saying tentatively, “Remember that time you came running into Master Qui-Gon's apartment with your lightsaber drawn because you thought I was injured?”

“You refused to open the door and told me everything was fine,” Obi-Wan eyed him suspiciously.

“Well, about that,” Anakin hung his head, screwed his eyes shut and blurted out, “please don't judge me, but I was masturbating.”

Dead silence. 

“What?!” Obi-Wan finally choked out, twisting to stare at him in horror, “I felt it in the Force all the way across the Jedi Temple, Anakin! I thought someone had kriffing died!”

“I told you not to judge me!” Anakin wailed.

“Didn’t Master Qui-Gon tell you to empty all unnecessary emotions into the Force?” Obi-Wan demanded, massaging his aching temples.

“The Force isn’t a recycling bin, Obi-Wan,” Anakin rolled his eyes, “you can’t just toss everything in there and hope nothing comes back to bite you in the ass.”

“So that’s the only reason you blocked me off? You’re not, I don’t know, turning to the Dark side or anything?”

“What? No! I just wanted some privacy!” Anakin yelled, throwing his hands up into the air in exasperation. Well, that was a relief, Obi-Wan supposed. “It’s not as if you never have a bit of fun time with your left hand.”

“I don’t really,” Obi-Wan said, getting to his feet with a low groan, “I have fun with other people’s left hands. Good night, Padawan Skywalker. Enjoy the scenery.”

“What do you mean other people’s left hands?” Anakin screeched, hackles rising as he scrambled after the other Jedi, “Obi-Wan?! I told you I hated sand! Wait for me!”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Obi-Wan woke to the ungodly sight of Anakin’s intense stare. He sat at the small table, already dressed and tapping his foot impatiently. C-3PO hovered anxiously at his elbow. Anakin's childhood bot had nearly blown his circuits when Anakin had stepped foot into the house yesterday. There had been much stiff and awkward hugs exchanged between the two. Obi-Wan had to call upon all of his Jedi training to stop himself from laughing at the boy's face when C-3PO accidentally kneed Anakin in the crotch in all his excitement. 

“I made you breakfast,” Anakin gestured to the tray on the table.

Obi-Wan moaned and covered his face.

“Come on, get up, Obi-Wan.” The bed dipped and Anakin’s cold hand slipped under the covers to find warm skin. Obi-Wan yelped when he pinched hard.

“You are a monster, Padawan Skywalker,” He said balefully, peering up at the scowling young man. “Where is Shmi? I wish to report you.”

“She left with Cliegg and Owen to go to the market before I even woke up,” Anakin explained, “they left a note and breakfast.”

“So you lied about making me breakfast?” Obi-Wan pointed out, dodging out of the way when Anakin began to hurl various articles of clothing at him. 

“I carried it here,” He shrugged, tossing a pair of pants Obi-Wan’s way.

"Actually, Master Kenobi, it was I who carried the tray here—" C-3PO tried to say, but Anakin stuffed an old washcloth over the droid's mouth, muffling the rest of the words. 

“Did they say when they would be back?” Obi-Wan asked with a laugh, slipping out of bed and shimmying into the clothes strewn across his bed. Anakin had paused to stare at his bare thighs, mouth slightly parted and cheeks pink. The question stretched into a somewhat uncomfortable silence. C-3PO peered between them with the polite vacantness of someone who did not have a clue what was going on and wasn't particularly interested in finding out. 

Clearing his throat, Anakin said hurriedly, “Uh, yeah, Mom said not to wait for them. W-what should we do today?”

“You mean beside meditating in the endless sand, Ani?” Smiling at Anakin’s exaggerated eye roll, Obi-Wan sat down at the table and picked up a breakfast bun. “I’m sure we can think of something to pass the time.”

 

* * *

 

“You never told me you’ve been to Tatooine before,” Anakin’s tone was accusatory as Obi-Wan guided him effortlessly through the dunes. Years of exile and solitude had etched the paths into his muscle memory. He could probably reach the cave where he had lived blindfolded.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, young one,” Obi-Wan said, offering Anakin a hand that the boy promptly ignored.

“You know, the way you speak sometimes make you sound ancient, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, then, turning to the smiling man beside him, he asked, “so are we still far?”

“Nope, this is it, actually,” Obi-Wan said, pointing to the empty cave.

“So what are we looking at exactly? There’s nobody here,” Anakin said, wiping at his sweaty brow.

“There used to be,” Obi-Wan said, stepping into the space. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

 _There will be,_ the thought came unbidden, and his chest constricted with sorrow and pain.

Anakin seemed to have sensed his distress because his warm presence was at Obi-Wan’s side instantly, steady hands coming to land on his shoulders.

“Obi-Wan? Are you alright?” Anakin asked.

“I think so,” He smiled sadly at Anakin, “I wanted to say goodbye to this place, Ani. It meant a great deal to me once.”

He had passed Anakin’s lightsaber to Luke here in this cave, nearly half of his life spent grieving in solitude for the young man standing in front of him. He reached out, suddenly aching to touch. Anakin blinked when Obi-Wan’s fingers brushed his cheek.

“Promise me, Anakin,” He said quietly. _Promise me you will not fall to the Dark side._

“Promise what, Obi-Wan?” Anakin sounded oddly breathless.

“You will know when it is time,” Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

"Ok, I promise," Young Skywalker vowed solemnly. "Anything for you, Obi-Wan." 

In a rare display of patience, Anakin did not protest when Obi-Wan asked if they could stay a while. He sat by the entrance and waited for the older man to commit everything to memory.

“What?” Anakin asked when he noticed Obi-Wan watching him.

“Nothing,” Shaking his head, Obi-Wan made his way over to him. Once upon a time, Ben Kenobi would have given everything to see this smiling, carefree child again. He smoothed back Anakin’s hair with an affectionate hand, “I think I’m ready to go, Anakin.”

“One day, you’re going to tell me all of your secrets, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said as they got onto the speeder.

“Will you wait for that long?” He wrapped his arms around Anakin’s waist.

“Of course,” Came the confident reply. Obi-Wan buried his smile against Anakin’s tunic.

By the time they arrived back at the farm, the suns were already starting to set, but the splattering trail of blood leading to the front door had both Jedi jumping from their ride, lightsabers drawn.

“It’s Owen!” Anakin yelled, spotting his unconscious step-brother lying by the foot of the stairs. Obi-Wan dropped to his knees and carefully eased the man into his arms, using the Force to nudge him awake.

“Get me bandages and a clotting patch, Anakin, he’s bleeding pretty badly,” Obi-Wan ordered. Patting the man’s cheek gently, he said, “Owen, you are safe, tell me what happened. Where are Cliegg and Shmi?”

“The…raiders…” Owen groaned feebly, his eyelids fluttering.

“Did he say—” Anakin began.

“Yes, we need to get Owen inside,” Obi-Wan said, “where’s Arfour and C-3PO?”

“I’m going to kill them all,” Anakin growled.

Setting Owen onto the bed, Obi-Wan pinned Anakin’s face between his hands, “we will save them, Anakin. You must calm yourself first.”

“I-I dreamt this, Obi-Wan, I should have stopped them from going to the market this morning!” Anakin’s fingers felt like iron bands around Obi-Wan’s wrists. His distress and anguish poured through their mental link, heavy like a tsunami. It was starting to make Obi-Wan dizzy.

“Focus, Ani,” Obi-Wan tried to guide him, “you can find them through the Force.” He pressed his forehead against Anakin’s, “concentrate and breathe.”

Anakin closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Obi-Wan sent as much support as he could through their bond. He felt the chaos in Anakin’s mind settle.

“Do you know where they are?” He asked when Anakin’s eyes opened.

“Yes,” Anakin said quietly.

Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin’s hand tightly in his, “lead the way.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, in my exhaustion last chapter, I forgot to add C-3PO. I knew there was something I forgot... Anyway, there were tiny edits for the previous chapter to include him.
> 
> So this chapter is basically pre-Battle of Geonosis, with my own canon divergence tweaks to it. The movie script was very frustrating to me, so there won't be those super freaking military tactic blunders this time. 
> 
> And seriously, clone lives matter, dude.

Cliegg was dead.

Obi-Wan stared down at the lifeless body in his arms. A curious hollow ringing noise was echoing inside his skull, drowning out the loud crackling of the fire in the tent and the sounds of distant screaming. He and Anakin had split up, the boy sneaking off to find his mother and Obi-Wan Cliegg. He had found him alright, tied up and still bleeding sluggishly from the brutal beating but non-responsive to any external stimuli.

 _Another piece of collateral damage_ , a small voice whispered gleefully in Obi-Wan’s head, _you did this. You killed him._

A piercing scream, louder and closer this time, followed by a tidal wave of anger in the Force made Obi-Wan flinch. Anakin’s rage pounded through their link and horror settled cold and brittle like ice inside Obi-Wan’s chest.

Were they too late? Was Shmi dead too?

He got to his feet.

“I am so sorry,” Obi-Wan whispered down at the poor man's body and forced himself to turn away. There was nothing he could do to help Lars anymore. Anakin on the other hand…

The adjacent tent was on fire when Obi-Wan stepped outside. The shockingly bright glow of Anakin’s lightsaber was a few paces off, slicing through the dark night and illuminating the vicious snarl on the young man’s face. Shmi, bloodied and bruised but very much alive, huddled behind him, her trembling hands covering the body-wracking sobs as her son hacked through the Tusken Raiders like they were made of paper. Relief coursed through Obi-Wan despite the shock, and he staggered toward them, drawing his own weapon.

“Anakin, stop!” Obi-Wan yelled, parrying Anakin’s blow with his lightsaber and allowing precious time for the small figure to wriggle out of the way and disappear into the dark night. “That was a child you were about to kill!”

“They were going to kill my mother,” Anakin growled, his fury swirling around him like a dark noxious cloud, “stand aside, Obi-Wan.”

_Stand aside, Obi-Wan, or fall like the rest of those who opposed me._

It felt like Mustafar all over again, and something inside Obi-Wan broke at the words, a bone-aching weariness seeping into his limbs. His lightsaber clattered to the ground as his knees gave out from beneath him.

“Ani, please,” Obi-Wan choked out, eyes stinging, “you promised…”

For a fraction of a second, he really thought Anakin would cut right through him, but then the boy’s eyes fell to the charm tied around Obi-Wan’s wrist, glowing a molten silver in the light of his weapon, and it was as if a spell had lifted, and Anakin dropped to his own knees, anguish replacing the fury on his face as he took Obi-Wan’s hand in his.

“I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan, I didn’t m-mean to,” He stammered, suddenly looking painfully young again. Shmi rushed to their side and threw her arms around her son. The remaining Tusken Raiders were fleeing from their campsite, Obi-Wan could feel their presence fading away. There were mostly women and children left, he knew, Anakin had slaughtered the men responsible for kidnapping Shmi and Cliegg.

_...Cliegg._

He was not going to have an easy time telling Shmi and Owen the bad news.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and exhaled.

 

* * *

 

They were a bloody mess by the time they got back to the moisture farm. Thankfully, Owen was awake and healing under the bots’ supervision. Shmi hugged him close when he caught sight of Anakin carrying Cliegg’s body in his arms. Obi-Wan had to look away, the piercing guilt in his chest making it hard to breath. He had no right to change the fate of their lives, yet here he was, driven by the selfish instinct to correct all his past wrongs with the unreliable faded memories of an old man.

“What will become of us?” Shmi, eyes swollen from crying, asked hoarsely when Anakin and Obi-Wan finished burying her dead husband’s body. They had erected a small plain headstone over the fresh grave with Cliegg’s name carved into the sandstone. In a few decades, the wind would no doubt erase all evidence of those words and the identity of the man lying beneath the sand, Obi-Wan thought sadly as he straightened. Anakin was peering at him, his expression solemn and waiting.

“It will not be safe for you to remain here,” Obi-Wan said. In all the chaos, he had not had the time to use any Force persuasion on the Tusken Raider before they had fled. No doubt they would return for revenge after he and Anakin left the planet.

“But where will we go?” Owen asked, his face still ghastly pale from the blood loss.

“You could come with us to Coruscant,” Anakin said, somewhat uncertain. “I’m sure Master Qui-Gon will understand when he hears our explanation…”

“Qui-Gon is the least of our worries, Anakin,” Obi-Wan frowned in thought, “the Jedi Council cannot find out about our visit to Tatooine. We would both be kicked out of the Order for breaking the Code, but I agree, it is for the best if you come with us. Perhaps Dex would be willing to take on a few extra helping hands at the diner.”

“Master Ani, Master Kenobi!” C-3PO’s shiny head appeared over the dunes, waving frantically, “Urgent message from one Miss Ventress, who, mind you, was extremely rude, if I must say so myself...”

Beside him, R4 was practically hopping with distress and annoyance. Anakin’s eye widened at the series of long chirps the droid let out.

“Care to explain?” Obi-Wan asked agitatedly, jumping aside when R4 tried to run over his foot in fury.

“We need to leave. Now.” Anakin said briskly, “Mom, pack your bags. Obi-Wan, help me get Owen to the fighter. We don’t have much time left.”

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan demanded.

“It’s Padme and Master Qui-Gon,” Anakin said tensely, “R4 said your bounty hunter friend messaged that they were taken hostage by Count Dooku. She sent us the coordinates, come on, we need to hurry!”

 

* * *

 

Geonosis was yet another desert planet.

Anakin grimaced when his boots touched the orange red sand, and Obi-Wan, heart heavy with the impending battle, couldn’t help but mirror his expression. He had sent a message to the Jedi Temple for help before they arrived, but Obi-Wan was not sure Yoda would believe him. He couldn’t exactly reveal his friendship with Asajj Ventress, who had been one of the assassins hired to kill Senator Padme in the first place. Obi-Wan exchanged a dark look with Anakin. The boy turned to the others standing inside the fighter.

“Mom, stay here and take care of Owen, we will be back as soon as we can,” Anakin ordered, handing over a blaster and a comlink, “shoot anything that moves.”

“Keep my boy safe, Master Kenobi,” Shmi caught his arm when Obi-Wan turned to leave.

“Mom—” Anakin started.

“I will protect him with my life,” Obi-Wan vowed firmly.

“And you too, Ani,” She said, “watch Master Kenobi's back. May the Force be with the both of you.”

 

* * *

 

They snuck into the facility through a side tunnel, hacking down the metal doors with their lightsabers. Obi-Wan advised caution and stealth. He did not have any convenient memories of how to navigate the place this time, but the sound of heavy machinery operating a couple of floors down still brought forth a realization.

“Anakin, I think there is a droid factory beneath us,” Obi-Wan hissed at the young man just as they turned a corner and came face to face with half a dozen battle droids.

“You think?” Came Anakin’s dry reply.

They lifted their lightsabers in unison, but the sudden appearance of a cloaked figure dropping from the ceiling ruined what would have been a spectacular fight, according to Anakin, who immediately began to complain the moment their mysterious rescuer lifted the hood to reveal Quinlan’s grinning face.

“Kenobi,” Vos nodded at him, then turning to a scowling Anakin, he smirked, “I see you’ve only grown in height and not mentality, kid. You had me worried for a sec there in the Jedi Temple the other day, with all that polite 'Master Vos’ bullshit. I knew it was just a front.”

“Quinlan, is Bant with you?” Obi-Wan asked quickly, “Do you know where Master Qui-Gon or the Senator is being held?”

“Hey, you don’t get to ask questions, Kenobi, not after that little stunt you pulled,” Vos snapped, gesturing for them to follow him as he took off down the hall. “Where the hell were you? We needed all the help we could get when we got ambushed by the Separatist bounty hunters after picking up the Senator from Naboo.”

“I’m sorry, it was my fault,” To Obi-Wan’s surprise, Anakin spoke up.

“Yeah? Well, apologizing won’t make it any better, kid, you’re in a butt-load of trouble when we get back to the Temple,” Quinlan shot him a stern look before peering down the hall with a grimace, “ _if_ we get back to the Temple.”

“How many?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Four, two close to us and the other two down the hall,” Quinlan said, “and I don’t know where Bant is, I only managed to escape because of my amazing Jedi—“

“You mean I saved you,” A dry voice said and when Obi-Wan pushed past Vos to scout the hallway, he found all the droids sliced cleanly in halves and still smoking gently.

Ventress retracted her lightsaber and purred, “hello Little Jedi.”

Obi-Wan turned to Quinlan Vos with lifted brows.

“Really?” Vos folded his arms over his chest, “you’d believe the words of a bounty hunter over a friend. I’m hurt, Kenobi, I really am.”

 

* * *

 

“Alright, here is what we are going to do,” Obi-Wan said to the small group.

“How am I a part of this?” Ventress interrupted haughtily.

Obi-Wan shot her a patient look, “because you are my friend, Asajj, and I would trust you with my life.”

“Wait, when did that happen?” Both Anakin and Ventress looked highly affronted.

Obi-Wan heaved an irritated breath and continued, “this is the plan. Vos, two or three floors down, you will find a droid factory in the middle of creating more battle droids, you need to destroy them all, or better yet, blow the whole thing up. Anakin, I need you to track down Senator Padme Amidala, and Asajj and I will find Master Qui-Gon and Bant.”

“Why am I the one to rescue the Senator? Why can’t I go with you?” Anakin complained, still giving Ventress the stink-eye.

Obi-Wan smiled, “trust me, you will thank me later, Ani.”

“Why can’t I be the one to go blow things up?” Ventress asked, annoyed.

“Because I need you by my side when we get to Dooku, and I have the perfect disguise to get us in,” Obi-Wan explained.

Quinlan cleared his throat expectantly. All three turned to stare at him.

“Really? Nothing? Not even a ‘you’d look really good with an explosion as your background, Vos’?”

“Impress us, Quinlan, the fate of the universe depends on your success,” Obi-Wan said, clapping him on the shoulder. Then, turning to everyone, he said, “be careful, and may the Force be with us all.”

 

* * *

 

They parted ways with Anakin a few corridors down.

“You are either blind or the worst tease in the whole galaxy,” Ventress commented when Anakin finally disappeared around a corner, still bitter from the apparently ‘unfair’ task he had been assigned.

“What do you mean?” Puzzled, Obi-Wan asked.

“That boy is clearly infatuated,” She said bluntly.

Obi-Wan sighed as they continued down the corridor, “I know, and as much as it violates the Code, I cannot help but push him toward Padme. They are meant to be, Asajj.”

When she did not reply, he turned around to find Ventress staring at him as if he’d sprouted a second head.

 _“Wow,”_ She said flatly.

"Yes, shocking,” Shaking his head, Obi-Wan went back to his task, “contrary to belief, I am not a stickler to the teachings of the Order. I have learned over the course of the years, that nothing is black and white as the Jedi were taught to believe,” he smiled at her, “many are varying shades of grey, and perhaps they are more breathtaking because of it. You, for example, my dear.”

A slow smirk spread across Ventress’ face, “that poor pathetic kid.”

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan blinked.

“Give me your wrists,” Ventress ordered instead, producing a pair of restraints from her belt and giving him a pointed shove, “we are getting close to the cells. Time for part two of your genius plan, Dreamboat.”

 

* * *

 

His plans, which involved Ventress marching him into the holding cells with cuffs in order to track down the captured Jedi, did not exactly work out as Obi-Wan had hoped, not when the first person they ran into was Count Dooku.

“What do we have here?” Dooku drawled as the duo froze. Obi-Wan stumbled when Ventress kicked his legs out from beneath him and tightened her grip on the chains holding his arms together.

“Caught this stray Jedi sneaking inside,” Asajj said curtly, meeting Dooku’s curious gaze head on. “I imagine there will be extra compensation for his capture.”

“Of course, Miss Ventress,” the old Count smiled slowly, his eyes appraising, “will you not consider my previous collaboration offer?”

“I work better alone,” Ventress said. Obi-Wan felt her fingers brush the center of his back and he ducked his head to hide the smile threatening to break over his face.

“What a shame,” Dooku clicked his tongue and turned his attention to Obi-Wan, who had schooled his expression into one of anger and defiance, “Knight Kenobi, I suppose you are here to mount a daring rescue of my former Padawan? Was he alone?”

“Yes,” Asajj said shortly.

“I stand corrected, a  _foolish attempt_ to rescue Qui-Gon,” Dooku’s smug smile widened, “who I assure you, young Jedi, has been treated with the utmost courtesy and respect.”

“Where is he?” Obi-Wan gritted out.

“Patience, I am taking you to him. Confiscate all of his weapons and release him,” Dooku commanded Ventress and beckoned them to follow. “Qui-Gon will no doubt be distressed if he sees his beloved former student in chains.”

Obi-Wan got to his feet slowly, massaging his aching wrists. Ventress narrowed her eyes and exchanged a confused look with Obi-Wan behind the Count’s back.

“Do learn to follow instructions. I do not have all day, Kenobi,” Dooku called breezily without looking back at them.

Gritting his teeth, Obi-Wan went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm... as you can see, I increased chapter count again. Unfortunately, the plot took over. Just like every other freaking fic I write. 
> 
> I seriously need to learn how to leave things at a oneshot. Even my stupid oneshots turn into a mini series. 
> 
> Do people even still want to read this???


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK, BABYYYYYY!!!!!

“Master Qui-Gon!”

Obi-Wan rushed to his old Master’s side the moment he spotted Qui-Gon standing by the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the battle arena down below. He didn’t look injured, but there was a weary fragility to Qui-Gon’s pale face that worried Obi-Wan more than any physical wounds could ever.

His Master looked...lost.

“What have you done to him?” He whirled to face the Count, who was watching them with a curious expression on his face.

“I’ve merely told him the truth about the corrupt Senate, young Kenobi,” Dooku said lightly, “and the Jedi Order that blindly carry out the orders of a Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan’s mind was working at hyper speed. Judging by the triumphant look on Dooku’s face, he was expecting shock from Obi-Wan, but instead, Obi-Wan said after a pause, “why would you tell me that?”

“I beg your pardon?” Dooku blinked.

“I don’t suppose you would be willing to testify in front of the Senate about the identity of this Sith Master,” Obi-Wan went on, “I mean it certainly would aid your attempts to overthrow him.”

“How do you know it is a ‘him?’” Dooku narrowed his eyes. Obi-Wan had underestimated how sharp the old man’s mind was.

“In my experience, women are not so easily swayed into joining cults,” Obi-Wan shrugged, meeting Ventress’ amused gaze from across the room. She smirked. Beside him, Qui-Gon stirred slightly, his gaze becoming more focused as he took in their surrounding.

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon said hoarsely. His eyes fell to the old man across the room, “Master Dooku, please do not do this.”

“You were always my favorite Padawan, Qui-Gon," there was a note of sorrow in Dooku's voice, "I regret introducing you to the ways of the Jedi. You could have been so much more, still can be, if you join me, both of you."

"You are right to say that the Order is not perfect, but your methods for change are not any better," He argued heatedly, but Obi-Wan's attempt to launch into lecture was cut short by the loud baleful moan of a battle horn in the distance.

"Ah, so it begins," A wicked smile spread across the Count's face at the sound, "the execution."

"What execution?" Obi-Wan asked as a deafening cheer errupted from below. Somehow during their short conversation, the stands in the arena had filled with native Genosians, and as he rushed over to the window, Obi-Wan spotted the scowling young man bound in chains beside Padme. The Senator held her head high, her dark eyes defiant as the duo were dragged onto the gladiator field and secured to the two posts in the center.

“Why, Anakin? I gave you _one_ task,” Obi-Wan groaned under his breath. At the sound of his Padawan’s name, Qui-Gon looked up.

“Anakin is here, too?” He asked sharply.

“Unfortunately,” Obi-Wan grimaced, turning to face Dooku.

“Join me, Kenobi, or die alongside Qui-Gon's useless, hot-headed apprentice,” The old Count sneered.

“How about you surrender peacefully and I won’t have to kill you?” Obi-Wan glared back.

“Kill me?” Dooku threw his head back and laughed, “with what, youngling?”

“Oh, I don’t know, my dashing good looks,” Obi-Wan spat sarcastically as he lifted a hand to catch the lightsaber Asajj tossed his way. He activated the weapon and saw with some satisfaction the smug amusement fade from Dooku’s eyes. “And maybe this.”

“I see you have made your choice, Miss Ventress. A pity it is the wrong side,” The Count was slowly backing away from them, his own blood-red lightsaber held defensively in front of his chest. Something overhead creaked and Obi-Wan turned to see a massive piece of scaffolding come loose from the ceiling right above where Qui-Gon was still standing.

“Master, look out!” Obi-Wan made a running tackle at his old Master. They rolled to a painful stop against the thick window glass overlooking the arena below, but in all the commotion, Dooku had disappeared down the hall with Ventress close in pursuit.

Obi-Wan dragged himself upright and helped Qui-Gon to his feet. Down in the gladiator field, the beasts had been released. Padme was quickly scaling up the side of the pole and putting some distance between herself and danger, but Anakin was still wriggling like a landed fish at ground level. It would be futile for Obi-Wan to run after the Count now. Besides, he had other things to attend to, namely the frustrating man-child about to be devoured by a nexu. Heaving a sigh, Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber and stabbed it into the thick window glass, cutting a jagged opening big enough for a man to pass through.

“Shall we, Master Qui-Gon?” He asked. Qui-Gon nodded wordlessly, and together, they leapt from the open window.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan had forgotten how intense the experience in the gladiator arena had been all those years ago. He could feel the heat radiating from the ground through his boots and taste the stale lingering odor of death that clung stubbornly to the place. The spectators booed loudly when Qui-Gon cut through a Genosian guard with his lightsaber.

“Obi-Wan, focus!” The older Jedi roared, snapping Obi-Wan out of his trance. He leapt aside just in time to avoid the charging reek. Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet and heard his old Master yell, “Go help the Senator and Anakin, I can handle the beasts!”

“You came for me, Obi-Wan!” The boy’s face broke into a beautiful smile when Obi-Wan, disheveled and covered in dirt, cut him loose from the pillar.

“Where is your lightsaber, Ani?” The older Jedi demanded, eyes narrowed.

The boy blushed, “I might have misplaced it when I got captured by one of Dooku’s bounty hunters.”

“You idiot— ” He was about to berate the boy when Anakin suddenly threw the metal chains around his wrist over Obi-Wan’s head and yanked him close. The scorching heat of a blaster shot grazed a little too close for comfort as Obi-Wan's nose collided painfully with Anakin’s rock-hard chest. Sputtering and red-faced, he leaped back from Qui-Gon’s apprentice.

“Him, he’s the one who caught me,” Anakin accused, pointing to the helmeted figure half-hidden behind the swirls of red sand.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened, “Jango Fett.”

“You know this guy?” Anakin asked. He dragged the older Jedi out of the way of more blaster fire behind the massive post. Obi-Wan elbowed him when he felt one of the boy’s hand’s slide down not so innocently to rest atop his backside.

“Anakin, I’m going to distract him while you rescue Senator Amidala,” He said, untangling himself from Anakin who did not seem very keen on letting go. They both glanced up at Padme who had somehow gotten her hands on a blaster and was actually doing some pretty serious damage to the horde of droids that had come streaming out into the gladiator pit.

“She doesn’t look like she needs rescuing, Obi-Wan,” Anakin murmured, slack-jawed.

“You know what, you’re right,” Obi-Wan agreed as he turned to face Jango Fett, “sending you over will probably put her in more danger. Stay with me, then.”

Obi-Wan ignored Anakin’s highly offended “hey, I’m not that bad!” and charged at Jango Fett. He deflected the blaster shots with his lightsaber, but the reek that charged out of nowhere forced him to change course. Obi-Wan grunted in pain when one of the mercenary’s stray shots clipped his left shoulder. A streak of brown and beige shot past him as a furious Anakin launched himself at Jango Fett, catching Fett by surprise and sending the two of them tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Without his lightsaber, all Anakin had were his hands and the length of metal chain around both wrists. He threw both legs around Jango’s struggling form and wrapped the chain around the man’s neck, locking both arms behind his helmet. Still reeling from the attack, Obi-Wan sat up just in time to see the reek lower its horned head and charge at the downed men.

“Ani, watch out!” Obi-Wan yelled. Jango Fett pawed wildly at his armor and with a loud whoosh the jet pack mounted on his back came to life, lifting both him and Anakin into the air seconds before the reek could run them through with its sharp horns. They were rapidly gaining altitude, Anakin clinging to Jango’s back like a stubborn monkey.

“Let go, Anakin!” He shouted up at Qui-Gon’s apprentice.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the left rocket on Jango’s pack exploded and went out. Anakin wriggled loose a heartbeat later, rolling to a graceless stop in the dirt, the metal chain around his wrists severed by a sharp shot from Padme’s weapon.

“Force, she is incredible with a blaster,” In the brief lull of battle, Obi-Wan put a hand over his eyes and squinted up at the Senator. Padme took aim again and Jango’s jet pack swerved off course in a shower of sparks. It was almost too easy to use the Force to pull the ruined pack off the man and send him spiraling into the Separatist droids. Anakin, having heaved himself to his feet unaided, plucked Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from his lax fingers and cut down a droid that had gotten too close.

“You done drooling over the Senator, Obi-Wan?” He yelled, annoyance written all over his dirt-streaked face, but before Obi-Wan could answer, a massive explosion that shook the earth beneath them lit up the dark caverns beyond the gladiator pit and put a fiery end to the stream of droids pouring into the stadium. A small figure came flying out of the flames and rolled to a messy stop a few feet away.

Quinlan groaned and cracked open one eye, “did it look as cool as I imagined?”

“Yes, it did,” Obi-Wan breathed, still staring at the fire licking at the mangled remains of Dooku’s army. Quinlan flopped onto all fours with a satisfied moan.

“Your leg's on fire,” Anakin pointed out.

Quinlan glanced down and let out a startled yelp that quickly turned to pain when Anakin trotted over and started enthusiastically stomping the flames out with his foot. Even though Quinlan had successfully blown up the droid factory beneath them, there were still hundreds of them in the gladiator pit. With Bant’s whereabouts unknown and Ventress otherwise occupied, it would be difficult to win with only four of them, plus one Anakin without his lightsaber. Something was off, Obi-Wan suddenly realized. Mace Windu was dead, so there would be no Jedi strike team coming to their rescue this time, which meant—

“The fire's out already, now you’re just kicking me, you little bastard!” Quinlan was shouting in the background, “Help! Master Qui-Gon, your crazy apprentice is trying to cripple me!”

The air above them was filling with the distant vibrations of fighter engines. Obi-Wan looked up just as the approaching warships carrying the Republic’s new clone army broke through the clouds of dust. He spotted Master Plo at their head, his lightsaber drawn as he leapt gracefully off the first vessel and into the battle below. Other Jedi and the clone soldiers were quick to join him.

It was happening, Obi-Wan’s worst fear, the activation of the Clone Army, planting the seed for the brutal massacre to come.

“Obi-Wan, where are you going?” Anakin yelled when Obi-Wan suddenly abandoned their fight and leapt up into the stands. He ignored the concern radiating from Anakin and reached out to Ventress through the Force. She was distracted, but he managed to pin down her rough location. When he arrived, she was lying in a crumpled heap on the ground, bleeding sluggishly on one cheek and clutching her abdomen.

“Where’s Dooku?” Obi-Wan asked. Ventress pointed wordlessly down the dark corridor.

“Leave him to me, Asaji, you’ve done enough,” Obi-Wan said, helping her to her feet and pressing his comlink into her hands, “I need you to help me with one more thing. Anakin’s mother and step-brother are waiting in a fighter outside this compound. Take them to Dex’s and tell him Obi-Wan sent you. Ani and I must leave with the Order.”

“You owe me so much, Little Jedi,” Ventress hissed, straightening her spine with some difficulty. She eyed him for a brief pause before adding gruffly, “be careful, the old man is an extremely skilled fighter.”

“I will,” Obi-Wan promised, “thank you, Asaji.”

Ventress rolled her eyes and departed down the dark hallway opposite Obi-Wan.

 

* * *

 

Dooku was keying in the code to the secret hanger when Obi-Wan finally caught up to him. The simmering haze of anger that had been bubbling beneath his skin since they arrived on Geonosis was starting to affect his temper. The doors leading to Dooku's escape vessel slammed shut, crumpling with the force of Obi-Wan’s rage.

“I’m afraid I cannot let you leave, Count Dooku,” Obi-Wan said, activating his lightsaber.

“Very impressive,” The Count murmured, his dark eyes shining as he turned to assess Obi-Wan, “My offer of apprenticeship still remains, young Jedi.”

“My answer has not changed,” Obi-Wan growled, tightening his grip around his weapon when Count Dooku drew his own lightsaber.

“Perhaps it will once you hear that the ultimate fate of the Jedi Order can only be death,” Dooku said silkily. Obi-Wan’s heart skipped a beat at the hidden meaning behind those words.

“You would stand idly by while Qui-Gon dies along with them?” He implored desperately.

“Them? Do you not see yourself as a part of the Jedi Order, Kenobi?” Dooku narrowed his eyes interestedly at Obi-Wan.

“Perhaps I no longer blindly follow every command,” Obi-Wan answered vaguely, “but Count Dooku, surely someone of your intelligence knows deep down that your involvement with the Sith Lord will only lead to your demise. Master Qui-Gon used to tell me of your teachings. He knew you as a wise and powerful Jedi Master. Please help me stop this evil before more lives can be lost.”

For a brief second, a hint of something wistful crossed Dooku’s face, “Yes, I suppose Qui-Gon was the only good to come out of my time with the Order.”

“You and I can stop this,” Obi-Wan said desperately. He was so close. “Please.”

Dooku met Obi-Wan’s eyes and opened his mouth—

The doors behind them screeched open as a panting Anakin came rolling in like a loud, obnoxious hurricane, still absent of his lightsaber and clutching a piece of bent piping in his left hand.

 _How on earth did he expect to be of any help without a proper weapon?_ Obi-Wan thought hysterically as Dooku’s attention shifted to Anakin.

“Where do you think you’re going, old man?” Anakin bellowed, pointing his pipe at the Count who lifted a thin brow. He yelped when Dooku sent him flying with a neat flick of his wrist, the metal pipe clacking loudly as it rolled off into the darkness.

“It is rude to interrupt when the adults are talking, young Skywalker. Did Qui-Gon not teach you proper manners?” Dooku murmured, and to Obi-Wan’s surprise, deactivated his lightsaber as he turned address the older of Qui-Gon’s two apprentices, “I will not fight you today, Kenobi. You will let me commandeer that ship and leave this planet without resistance.”

“Why is that?” Obi-Wan asked wearily.

“Because,” Dooku’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I am the only one who knows how to put an end to the inevitable.”

Half buried in the remains of a deactivated fighter, Anakin moaned. Obi-Wan’s shoulders slumped at the sound.

Dooku’s gaze flickered to the younger Jedi’s prone form, “that old man was a fool to pick him. You would have been a much better candidate.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Obi-Wan asked, heart racing.

“Suppose I am curious to see how you will react,” Dooku said as he turned to the broken hanger doors. He smiled thinly, “do try to stay alive until we meet again, Obi-Wan.”

 

* * *

 

They spent the ride back to Coruscant in stony silence sitting in the back of one of the clone-operated battleships. One of the onboard medics had handed Anakin an icepack for the growing lump on the back of his head. Obi-Wan’s whole body felt like one angry, pulsating bruise, but he refused the bacta patch and kept his gaze resolutely on the black void outside the ship. With the Clone Army activated, the time allotted to him to prevent the ensuing massacre had decreased exponentially. To make matters worse, Obi-Wan had allowed Dooku to escape. The crushing tidal wave of self-doubt weighed heavily upon his chest as he combed through his options.

Obi-Wan was so engrossed in his thoughts that he did not notice their arrival on Coruscant until one of the clones politely roused him and informed Obi-Wan that Masters Plo and Yoda were both expecting them in the Halls of Healing. Sure Anakin might have a concussion and Obi-Wan’s limbs were starting to ache from all that jostling around in the gladiator pit, but their minor injuries didn’t warrant a visit to the Halls of Healing. They went nonetheless.

Yoda was peering down at a prone form lying in one of the infirmary beds when Obi-Wan and Anakin arrived. Master Plo, who had been inspecting the display monitor next to the cot, turned to look at them. His expression was unreadable behind the mask covering his face, but the tension in Yoda’s was glaringly obvious.

“Master Qui-Gon!” Anakin pushed past Obi-Wan when he spotted the figure on the bed.

“What happened?” Obi-Wan heard himself ask in a hollow voice.

“He suddenly collapsed on the way back,” Plo explained quietly, “the onboard medic could not find anything wrong with Master Jinn so we decided to bring him to the Halls of Healing for a more in-depth diagnostic.”

“Nothing wrong they say, but troubled he is,” Yoda murmured, passing a small wrinkled hand over Qui-Gon’s pale forehead. Now that he had gotten over the initial shock, Obi-Wan picked up on the unsettling swirl of the Force around his old Master as well. Come to think of it, Qui-Gon had seemed extremely shaken up when Obi-Wan had first found him with Dooku.

Did this have anything to do with the Count? If it did, how was Obi-Wan going to track down the old man now that he’d let him escape?

Before he could ponder the issue any further, a young healer came rushing into the room, “Master Yoda, Master Plo, the Chancellor requests your presence along with the rest of the Jedi High Council.”

“Very well,” Plo nodded, and after exchanging a brief glance with Yoda, he turned to Obi-Wan, “please inform us if Master Jinn wakes.”

Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin hadn’t said another word since he’d seen Qui-Gon’s unconscious body. He didn’t so much as blink when the two Jedi Masters left the room.

“This is my fault,” Anakin murmured quietly after a silent pause.

Obi-Wan frowned at him. “Anakin…”

“If I hadn’t told you about the dreams, if we hadn’t deviated from the mission, none of this would have happened, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon wouldn’t be injured and Cliegg might not have died,” Anakin’s hand trembled as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from Qui-Gon’s forehead. The waves of anguish and guilt flowing across their bond dug into Obi-Wan’s chest like physical claws.

But if they hadn’t gone to Tatooine, if Obi-Wan had stepped back and let history run its course, what would have happened? Surely he had made the right choice this time. By trading Cliegg for Shmi, Anakin would have another anchor to the Light, and perhaps his love for Padme will survive—

“You’re still thinking about her at a time like this?!”

The angry words did not penetrate Obi-Wan’s thoughts until Anakin’s fingers fisted the front of his tunic, the outburst sharp enough to punch the air out of his startled lungs when his back met the wall with a muffled thud. Obi-Wan lifted his eyes to Anakin’s face and saw with growing horror, the clear jealousy in his gaze. How the idiot boy could think that he was enamored with the senator truly escaped him.

“Ani, I’m not—” Obi-Wan tried to say, but Anakin tightened his grip chokingly hard. His first instinct was to shove the young man off with a Force Push, but the anguish pounding through their bond slowed his hand. So Obi-Wan met Anakin’s gaze and gritted out as calmly as he could, “there is nothing between Senator Amidala and I, Anakin.”

Instead of relief, more frustration bubbled forth from the boy. Anakin shook his head jerkily, “no, you’re lying to me.”

The Force around them pulsated along with Anakin’s anger, brutally dark and oppressive. His hands, calloused and rough from years of training, slipped from Obi-Wan’s wrinkled tunic to cup his bearded cheeks, and Obi-Wan was suddenly uncomfortably aware that the boy he had raised was now a grown man.

“Anakin, might I remind you that we are in the Halls of Healing?” He whispered urgently, “this is not the place to make a scene. Whatever misunderstanding you may have about me—”

“No, you listen to me for once, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said vehemently, “I am done waiting for you to understand.”

“What are you talking about?” His patience was running out. Curse Anakin and his impromptu dramatic outbursts. Now was not the time.

“What do you see when you look at me?” Anakin demanded, forcing Obi-Wan’s attention back to him. Deciding to play along for the time being, he frowned and said, “Qui-Gon’s apprentice and a fine young Jedi Warrior, Anakin. This is ridiculous—”

“No, you don’t see me, you see someone else,” Anakin shouted, “it's someone you lost a long time ago, isn’t it? Well, he's not here anymore, but I am, Obi-Wan, and I am not him!”

Ah, so this was what he was so pent up about. 

“You are right, Ani, you are not him. And I apologize if I—” His words tapered off when Anakin brushed his thumb tentatively over the laugh lines at the corner of Obi-Wan’s eye, his expression one of mingled desperation and open wonder. Dread seeped into Obi-Wan’s heart. He had seen that look on Anakin’s face many times in his past life. Only, they had been directed at Padme, not him.

“Anakin, attachment is forbidden in the Order,” He tried to say, but it came out weak and shaken, and Anakin brushed the comment aside like it was nothing. He touched the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth. “You find no irony in your words, Knight Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan flushed guiltily, “My choices are not of your concern, Padawan Sky—”

“I love you, Obi-Wan. I have since I first laid eyes on you all those years ago,” Anakin interrupted. He sounded almost calm, the anger no longer simmering beneath his skin. The Force around them seemed to vibrate with the utter conviction of his words. 

“Look at me, Obi-Wan, really look at _me_ ,” Anakin whispered, his breath fanning warmth against Obi-Wan’s lips, “because all I see is you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENT and KUDOS? :>


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: There's a part in this chapter where Obi-Wan is intoxicated and there might be a bit of dubious consent. But this fic is still rated T and will likely remain so to the end.

Nothing in Obi-Wan’s past had ever remotely prepared him for something like this. Where had he gone wrong this time? He clearly should not have showered Anakin with as much attention as he had done so growing up. This was—

“—your fault, Obi-Wan,” Anakin accused against his ear, the warmth of his lips sending goosebumps racing down Obi-Wan’s neck.

“What?” He twisted with some difficulty to find the boy scowling down at him.

“You’re projecting and it’s really loud, Obi,” Anakin explained, “and yes, I wholeheartedly agree. It really is all your fault for making me fall in love with you.”

“Stop saying that,” Obi-Wan snapped, irritatedly strengthening his mental shields again.

Anakin lifted an eyebrow, “Which part? 'It’s all your fault' or ‘I’m in love with you?’”

“Both!” Obi-Wan exploded, slapping a palm over Anakin’s mouth before the boy could plant his lips somewhere else. “You’re the Chosen One, Anakin. There are expectations, one of which is to adhere to the Code!”

“The Code that you so blatantly disregard whenever convenient?” Anakin shot back, his voice muffled from behind Obi-Wan’s hand. “Why am I not allowed to have attachments when you clearly do.”

“We talked about this, Anakin. Do as I say, not as I do. You are supposed to be better than me,” He lectured before narrowing his eyes, “please tell me that is your lightsaber pressed against my hip and not your—”

“I would wait for whatever this is to be over before interrupting,” A voice said behind Anakin, “but the Council is expecting you.”

Obi-Wan shoved Anakin off of him to find Quinlan inspecting Qui-Gon’s vitals on the monitor next to the bed. Vos lifted a brow at a glowering Anakin and asked, “Did poor Master Jinn faint from shock after walking in on you humping Kenobi against the wall?”

“Joking, I was just joking,” He held up both hands when Anakin stalked forward, expression thunderous. Obi-Wan grabbed the boy by the sleeve and jerked him back a few paces. Quinlan eyed the both of them, “Look whatever is happening between you and Skywalker is none of my business, Kenobi, but the Jedi Council isn’t happy about your little detour to Tatooine. Mundi’s got his hands on the travel records from your navigation droid, so my attempts to cover for you fell through.”

“The Chancellor’s been trying to smooth things over with them, but you still disobeyed a direct order and Senator Amidala was captured by the Separatist Army as a result. It’s a mess,” Quinlan sighed as he peered down at the unconscious man on the bed, “I almost envy Master Jinn.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin walked over to join him at Qui-Gon’s bedside. His Master’s skin felt cold as marble when Obi-Wan gently took the older Jedi’s hand in his. A flash of white against the dark bedding caught his gaze and Obi-Wan lifted his own arm to find that the strip of leather around his wrist had finally torn clean through. He picked up the piece of japor ivory that Anakin had bestowed upon him almost a decade ago. The edges had worn out over the years, and staring at it now, Obi-Wan recognized it for what it truly symbolized. In his past life, a heart-broken Padme had pressed a replica of the charm into his palm before she passed away and left two orphaned babies in his care. Somehow, it had found him again, only this time, Anakin had been the one to gift the japor ivory to Obi-Wan along with his heart.

“You once told me that this charm would bring the wearer good luck, didn’t you Anakin?” He asked the silent boy beside him. Anakin nodded, “That was what my mother said, yes.”

Easing the japor charm off of the broken leather band, Obi-Wan pressed it into Qui-Gon’s palm and curled his Master’s fingers over the smooth ivory. He took Anakin’s hand and laid it over both of theirs.

“We need your guidance now more than ever, Master. Please wake up,” He murmured, his voice cracking on the words, but Qui-Gon did not stir.

“There’s nothing you could do for him that the healers aren’t already doing,” Quinlan said gently, “come on, you two. We have to go.”

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan withdrew his hand and, with Anakin in tow, followed Quinlan out of the Halls of Healing.

 

* * *

 

“Why did you change course and disobey a direct command, Knight Kenobi?” Saesee Tiin was the one to ask the question after a short inquiry about Qui-Gon’s health. Anakin stiffen at his side and a tendril of panic seeped through his otherwise stoic demeanor. The Jedi High Council members sat in a semicircle around them, their expressions somber and assessing. Palpatine was situated across from them in his own chair and Obi-Wan could feel the Chancellor’s gaze settle on him.

“I picked up a distress signal,” Obi-Wan lied, ignoring Anakin when the boy turned to stare at him.

“What distress signal? Your navigation droid failed to mention such a thing,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said, “not to mention the fact that the location of your so-called distress signal came from Tatooine, which just so happens to be Padawan Skywalker’s home planet and theoretically well out of the range of your ship’s sensors at the time.”

“Anakin’s history on the planet played no part in my decision to investigate,” Obi-Wan said before Anakin could open his mouth, “As Jedi, we are taught to treat all life equally. Aside from Padawan Skywalker and I, Senator Amidala had three fully trained Jedi escorts. I mistakenly thought that would be enough to allow us to lend aid before catching up with them.”

“And were you able to?” Master Shaak Ti asked.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said quietly and finally met Anakin’s searching gaze. Something like warm gratitude and awed disbelief blossomed from his end of their bond.

“If they hadn’t arrived late, we probably would have been all captured and sentenced to death before the rescue team could arrive,” Quinlan, who had been slouching against a pillar in the corner, cleared his throat and pointed out, “Kenobi was the one who sent for the relief team, so technically, he saved us all.”

“In the circle, join us, Master Vos?” Yoda beckoned invitingly at him.

“Nope, already sat through my interrogation with the Council, Master Yoda,” Vos said quickly, "With all due respect, I am not up for a second round.”

“According to the navigation timestamps, Master Kenobi, you sent out the call for backup before you arrived on Geonosis,” Palpatine suddenly spoke up from behind them in a mildly inquisitive tone, “Without prior communications with the rest of your team, how were you able to know where they were and that trouble was afoot?”

“I felt it,” Anakin blurted out before Obi-Wan could answer, and all eyes turned to him, “I felt it through the Force.”

“Did you?” The Chancellor’s smile broadened, “To be so in tune with the Force, you have come far indeed as our Chosen One, Anakin.”

Obi-Wan clenched his fingers into fists beneath his voluminous sleeves. He could tell that Palpatine was up to something, and Anakin had just unintentionally given him exactly what he wanted.

“As Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Senate, I would like to formally ask young Anakin Skywalker to take on the role of a Jedi General to the Grand Army of the Republic,” Palpatine stood from his chair and walked over stand beside Anakin. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and it took all of Obi-Wan’s training to restrain himself from pulling Anakin away from Darth Sidious, “The Senate all agree that having The Chosen One at the forefront of our war against the Separatist Army would strengthen declining morale and placate skittish border alliances.”

“He is just a Padawan, Chancellor!” Obi-Wan cried, "this is absurd!”

“You were just a Padawan when you slayed Darth Maul,” Plo Koon pointed out. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, “As Qui-Gon’s close friend and a frequent observer of their time as Master and Apprentice, I believe young Skywalker has already satisfied the requirements of the Jedi Trials. Qui-Gon would be proud to welcome him to the rank of Jedi Knight,” he turned to address Obi-Wan, “Anakin has proven himself skilled at his endeavors in the past, has he not?”

Anakin beamed at Master Plo’s words. Obi-Wan on the other hand, groaned internally. His past endeavors had gone so-called ‘smoothly’ only because Obi-Wan had fought tooth and nail behind the scenes to keep them so. But it was too late. He could tell that Palpatine already had them at the ‘strengthen morale and placate border alliance’ bit. And why would they refuse? In their eyes, the Chancellor was just trying his best to bring peace to the Republic like everyone else in the room.

“Perhaps Skywalker should take one of the two empty seats on the council this season. It would give him a valuable chance to participate in our discussions and further his learn,” Shaak Ti mused in the ensuing silence. She had always had a soft spot for Anakin and his endless mischief, but the way Palpatine’s eyes lit up with delight made Obi-Wan’s stomach drop. Anakin, having felt his dread, twisted to look at Obi-Wan, his bemusement pulsing through their bond.

 _Don’t accept the position, Anakin, please._ Obi-Wan tried to communicate to him as the Supreme Chancellor clapped Anakin jovially on the back, “an excellent idea, Master Ti. Anakin can be my liaison between the Jedi High Council and the Galactic Senate. With our guidance, he will truly become the peace-bringer that our dear Master Jinn envisioned. What say you, young Anakin Skywalker? Do you accept our invitation?”

The boy's eyes flickered to Obi-Wan’s pale face again. Anakin bit his lip, “thank you, Masters, for this amazing opportunity. But I need to meditate upon it before I give my answer.”

“And no doubt to discuss the implications with Obi-Wan,” Plo said with a soft trill of amusement. “You have matured a great deal in these last few months, young one. Very well, then. You have three days to decide.”

“As for Knight Kenobi,” Saesee Tiin began, “the Council finds your blatant disregard for direct orders is troubling and would like for you to assist with diplomatic missions until further notice.”

So they were benching him. It was a lighter punishment than Obi-Wan had expected, but it made sense when he factored in the impending war.

“Master Kenobi was only attempting to do what he thought was the right thing,” Palpatine argued, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise, but his words seemed to have no effect on the Council's decision.

“As Qui-Gon’s former apprentice, you may assist with Padawan Skywalker’s induction ceremony. However, any more rogue activities and you will be faced with serious consequences, Kenobi,” Ki-Adi-Mundi finished grimly for the rest of Jedi High Council members. Obi-Wan respectfully inclined his head.

“Dismissed.”

 

* * *

 

“Shouldn’t you be happy the kid’s finally a proper Jedi, Kenobi?” Dex slid his fourth drink of the night over, the alcohol sloshing its way over the rim of the cup and onto his sleeve, leaving a dark bloodstain-like patch in the beige fabric.

“I am,” Obi-Wan said and took a sip. The liquid burned like lava down his throat to settle in his stomach. He turned to look at the little family seated together in the back of Dex’s diner. Shmi was beaming at her sons, her arms wrapped around both of them as Anakin chatted to her and Owen about his life as a Jedi. Obi-Wan smiled faintly at the sight.

“It’s just, Master Qui-Gon should be here with us, Dex, instead of lying all alone in the Halls of Healing while we celebrate Anakin’s Knighthood,” He murmured sadly into his half-empty cup.

“Alright, quit your moping, Kenobi, your old Master is going to be fine,” Dex smacked him on the back of the head and motioned for someone behind Obi-Wan, “come get this wet blanket off my table. He’s scaring off my customers.”

The next moment, his vision spun as thin, strong arms hefted Obi-Wan bodily onto someone’s shoulder. He saw a flash of white, gleaming teeth, and heard Quinlan ask the person carrying him, “heavier than he looks?”

“Nope, it’s like holding a couple of grapes,” The woman laughed low in her throat and patted Obi-Wan’s backside.

Woman?

He blinked when the world rotated again and Asajj Ventress’ amused face floated into focus inches from his own. Quinlan wriggled himself into their little cubicle on his other side, successfully sandwiching Obi-Wan between the two of them. He wanted to thank her for helping them get Anakin’s family to safety and ask what she was still doing on Coruscant, but nothing came out. His voice box seemed to have stopped cooperating along with the rest of his limbs.

Vos threw an arm over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, “want another drink, Kenobi?”

He blinked at the other Jedi. Quinlan waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, ok,” Obi-Wan agreed.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan had lost track of how many drinks he’d had when Anakin popped his dark blond head into their little cubicle and found the three of them sprawled in a tangled pile of empty cups and loose limbs. There was much elbowing and cursing, but the scowling boy managed to extract him from the pile and pull Obi-Wan to his feet. He must have lost some of his clothes, because it was surprisingly cold outside. Annoyed with all his shivering, Anakin had to surrender his own outer robes to Obi-Wan halfway to the Temple. It took a few minutes for him to realize that they were not headed to the Knight’s Barracks but to Qui-Gon’s old apartment. Anakin, the little bastard, effortlessly hacked into his Master’s room and dragged a thoroughly befuddled Obi-Wan inside.

Not much had changed since he last visited them years ago, and a sense of nostalgia welled up inside Obi-Wan’s chest as he followed Anakin into his old bedroom. The boy had done quite a bit of interior modifications since Obi-Wan was last here, as there were blueprints of various fighters and battleships taped over the walls and half-assembled circuit boards lying all over the place. Obi-Wan tripped over a mechanical arm and went sprawling to the floor, but Anakin caught him around the waist and propped him up against bed instead.

“What are we doing here, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked as Anakin took a seat on the carpet in front of him.

“I thought we’d do it here,” The boy said solemnly.

“Do what?” Obi-Wan squinted at him suspiciously.

“Cut my Padawan braid off, Obi-Wan,” The Chosen One groaned, throwing his frustrated arms up in the air. “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not horny _all the time_.”

He frowned, “Who said you were horny?”

“Asajj and Quinlan, the bastards,” Anakin fumed, “and my mom and step-brother today, but that’s beside the point.” He fished out Obi-Wan’s lightsaber and held it out to him with a dramatic flourish, “can you do it for me?”

Obi-Wan eyed the weapon wearily. “I’m seeing four of you right now, Anakin. Do you really want me to take a lightsaber to your neck?”

“Point taken, I forgot to factor in the drunkenness scale,” Anakin muttered, hopping to his feet again. He rummaged around in the pile of junk on his desk while Obi-Wan watched. The boy came back with a simple metal blade. “How’s this?”

“Better, but you’re going to have to help me,” Obi-Wan conceded, “I don’t want to accidentally stab you in the side of the head.”

“You’re such a charming drunk, you know that?” Anakin muttered as he wrapped his fingers around Obi-Wan’s and grabbed the Padawan braid with his other hand. It took a few tries, but they managed to sever the braid from Anakin’s hair without accidentally killing him in the process.

It took his breath away, seeing that brown strand in his hand. Anakin was a Jedi Knight now. That thought both thrilled and terrified Obi-Wan. They were that much closer to Anakin’s fall to the Dark Side and Obi-Wan honestly didn’t know if he had made any meaningful differences this time around.

“Anakin, can I keep this?” He asked suddenly, “I would like to hold onto it if you will allow me to.”

Anakin blinked, “why?”

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan admitted honestly. He didn’t know where all the sentiment was coming from, but he wanted something physical to hold onto as a reminder of Anakin’s Padawan days.

“Of course,” The young man swallowed, “Anything you want, Obi-Wan.”

He was sitting too close, his blue eyes too focused on Obi-Wan’s face, and then they were kissing, the sweet taste of the jogan fruit cake Anakin had been stuffing his face with earlier filling Obi-Wan’s mouth. He did not know who initiated the kiss first, but Obi-Wan could feel the desperation and fierce joy emanating from Anakin through their bond at the intimate contact. Sighing, Obi-Wan gently pushed him off.

“Anakin, the Code,” He reminded quietly, lips stinging and head reeling. Obi-Wan averted his gaze from the heartbreak on the boy’s face, “You are not thinking clearly, dear one.”

“What will convince you of my devotion, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked, pleaded actually, as he cupped the older Jedi’s face between his hands, “What will it take for you to see?”

“I already see,” Obi-Wan choked out, his voice trembling, “but I cannot become the reason for your descent into the Dark Side. It would destroy me, Anakin.”

This close, there was not a speck of gold in the pure, endless blue of Anakin’s eyes when he whispered, “but how can I fall when it is you that I am attached to, Obi-Wan?”

“It is the act in itself, dear one. No good will come of it,” Obi-Wan said, but there was not much heat behind his words. It was not as if Obi-Wan had never felt the temptation. Satine had been the one that had nearly done him in, but he had recovered from the ordeal and moved on, and so will Anakin.

Eventually.

Obi-Wan sighed, allowing the boy to press his face into his shoulder the way he used to do as a small child whenever Anakin missed his mother. He ran a comforting hand over Anakin’s spine, “Oh Ani, what am I going to do with you…”

 

* * *

 

He woke to sunlight spilling in from the open blinds, and for a moment, Obi-Wan had no idea where he was. Then, the obnoxiously loud sound of Anakin’s snores reached his ears and every memory from last night came back with a terrible vengeance. As if sensing his mortification through the bond, Anakin grunted in his sleep, shifting behind the older man to wrap his arms tighter around Obi-Wan’s waist. The older Jedi frowned when he felt something hard digging into his backside.

Was it Anakin’s lightsaber? No, it couldn’t be. The boy had lost his on Geonosis yesterday. Was it Obi-Wan’s lightsaber?

Apparently not.

Obi-Wan’s lightsaber was lying in a perfectly round pool of sunlight on the floor next to Anakin’s severed Padawan braid.

He blanched.

Anakin yelped when Obi-Wan jerked him off the bed with a Force Push strong enough to send him crashing into the pile of metal scraps next to the bed with his long legs akimbo. The boy, eyes still crusted shut with sleep, squinted blearily up at him. Obi-Wan saw recognition settle in seconds before color exploded over Anakin’s pale cheeks.

“Did we...?” He breathed, something like nervous excitement coursing through their bond when his eyes fell to the messy sheets on his bed and Obi-Wan’s equally rumpled appearance.

“Fortunately no, General Skywalker,” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his tangled hair and glanced at the time on the holo-display on Anakin’s nightstand, “you should go freshen up. Your clone troops are expecting you in thirty minutes.”

“Troops, right,” Anakin jerked upright like he’d been electrocuted. Then, his eyes fell to the erection tenting his pants.

“I’m not helping you with that,” Obi-Wan said, beating a hasty retreat before the boy could blame it on him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Masters Jinn, Plo, and Ti are Team Obikin all the way! I read somewhere that most of the Jedi Masters were made Generals in the GAR during the Clone Wars, and while Anakin has only recently been promoted to Jedi Knight, I still wanted him to become a General. But he's not one of the High Generals.
> 
> I will try to finish this fic before the summer ends, so your comments and Kudos will go a long way to making me update faster!!! LOVE YOU ALL~ 
> 
> Also, highly recommend watching this Anakin/Vader tribute video called "The Chosen One" on YouTube by Heroes Fan Productions. It gave me all the feels and made me cry. Literally the best SW video on the internet. Here's the link: [The Chosen One](https://youtu.be/wk0bRElYuXk)


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